Paintball Wizard by cackling stump



Summary: The life of a typical American teenager (okay, maybe not so typical) is shaken by tragedy. Then he discovers a new world awaiting him, filled with new people, new struggles, and, perhaps, new love.
Rating: PG-13 starstarstarstarhalf-star
Categories: Alternate Universe
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2013.11.01
Updated: 2014.09.26


Index

Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter 2: The Final Battle
Chapter 3: Dances and Diamonds
Chapter 4: The White Wizard
Chapter 5: Goodbyes
Chapter 6: Snowglobes and Fireplaces
Chapter 7: Summer at Hogwarts
Chapter 8: First Encounters
Chapter 9: Deflections
Chapter 10: Waves and Particles
Chapter 11: The Interpretation of Dreams
Chapter 12: Adventures While Flying
Chapter 13: Broomclosets and Nightgowns
Chapter 14: Hogsmeade
Chapter 15: Confessions
Chapter 16: Temper, Temper
Chapter 17: Searching for the Past
Chapter 18: Enigmas
Chapter 19: Before the Headmaster
Chapter 20: Meet the Weasleys
Chapter 21: Christmas at the Burrow
Chapter 22: Resurrection
Chapter 23: Coming Clean
Chapter 24: Unmasked
Chapter 25: Fall-Out
Chapter 26: New Year, New Lessons
Chapter 27: Outbursts
Chapter 28: Love is in the Air
Chapter 29: Aftermath
Chapter 30: Rats!
Chapter 31: Offers
Chapter 32: Excitable Boy
Chapter 33: Spring Break
Chapter 34: Plans Thwarted
Chapter 35: Tensions
Chapter 36: Toad in the Hole
Chapter 37: The Vision Fulfilled
Chapter 38: Reminiscing
Chapter 39: A Dark Summer
Chapter 40: The Last Will and Testament of Harry James Potter
Chapter 41: Aufero Malum
Chapter 42: Planning and Searching
Chapter 43: Unite My Being With Yours
Chapter 44: Stateside
Chapter 45: Back to Reality
Chapter 46: The Power He Knows Not
Chapter 47: Secrets
Chapter 48: Fears Faced
Chapter 49: Battle at the Burrow
Chapter 50: Interrogations, Part I
Chapter 51: Interrogations, Part II
Chapter 52: As Whitest Snow
Chapter 53: Restoration
Chapter 54: Repercussions
Chapter 55: Preparations
Chapter 56: Leaping Lizards!
Chapter 57: Obcidione Caedo
Chapter 58: Recovering
Chapter 59: Epilogue


Chapter 1: Prologue

The unnaturally large man approached the almost destroyed house under the cover of dark. The house looked like it had been bombed; the back half almost completely gone. In the distance he heard a series of small pops, followed by fireworks lighting up the sky. The celebrations had begun, but there would plenty of time to celebrate after he completed his mission. He was nervous about entering the house, knowing who had recently been there, but he had been given an assignment, and he was going to complete it if it was within his power. As he approached the house, he saw the front door was wide open, blowing in the breeze. Stepping over some rubble, he noticed a mass in the front room that was vaguely shaped like a man. He went over and saw that it was indeed a man, a man with black hair and glasses with a spider web of cracks in the lenses covering his open eyes that stared off into space. He was clearly a victim of Avada Kedavra. The large man sniffed, wiping a tear that was falling down his cheek as he recognized his friend. I have to keep movin’ and complete my task, he thought to himself. He looked around the first floor some more, not finding anything of interest other than debris from the battle. They’re probably upstairs in his room, he thought and started the climb up to the second floor. At the top of the stairs, he looked into the main bedroom, again not finding what he was seeking. He trod further down the hall to the other bedroom, seeing more wreckage. As he entered, he saw another body, this one a woman with dark red hair, her green eyes also glazed over as if looking into the distance. He choked back a sob, pulled out a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth, and wiped away more tears and blew his nose. He then looked across the room and saw his goal, the crib, but it was totally destroyed and empty. Oh, no, not Harry too! he thought and started searching frantically for the toddler. He looked everywhere and found no sign of him. He called out, “’Harry, Harry! Come ter Uncle Hagrid!” but no response came. He searched every room thoroughly, but he found no clue as to where Harry was could be. There was no body like his parents; it was if he just disappeared.

After hours of sifting through the wreckage, Hagrid gave up, and left the house. As he was leaving, he heard a slowly increasing roar coming up the street and saw a man on a motorcycle flying down the street. The motorcycle landed and stopped just short of Hagrid’s feet. Hagrid greeted Sirius, who asked, “Am I too late?”

Hagrid told Sirius what he found, James and Lily dead, and no trace of Harry. “I reckon he musta’ met the same fate as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, ‘cause there weren’t no sign of him either, other than the destruction,” conjectured Hagrid. “I must tell the Headmaster right away!” Sirius muttered something that sounded like “Peter” surrounded by cursing, offered Hagrid his motorcycle, and then apparated away with a pop.

Almost 10 years later

Professor McGonagall walked briskly through the hallways of Hogwarts leading to the Headmaster’s office. As she arrived at the gargoyle guarding the staircase, she struggled to remember the new password, which had just been changed last week. “Darn that man’s love of Muggle candy! What did he change it to?” she muttered. “Oh, yes. Wine gum,” she announced to the gargoyle which then turned and allowed her to enter. At the top of the staircase, she knocked and heard “Come in, Minerva.”

“What can I do for you today, Minerva? You look fretful this morning.”

“With good reason, I assure you, Albus. I was looking at the next few Hogwarts letters to be sent out to the upcoming first years and look at what I found.”

She showed him an envelope that looked like all the other letters that would be sent out, made from yellowed parchment paper, the Hogwarts seal on the back, and the student’s name, written in emerald green ink. However, this letter only had a name and no address.

Dumbledore’s eyes widened, but just for a moment before he regained his composure. “That is most puzzling. Let me check the book,” said Dumbledore.

Dumbledore went to a pedestal on which an open book and quill laid. He paged back to the year 1980. “Let’s see, Ronald Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Terry Boot, Lavender Brown, Gregory Goyle, Hannah Abbott, Neville Longbottom. . . ” Then a pause. “That is curious,” pointing to the entry and showing it his colleague.

“Why is that curious? Doesn’t that book record the birth of every wizard and witch in Britain? Why wouldn’t he be in there?”

“It is not the fact that he is in the book that is curious; it is the fact that his name does not have a line through it. See this name, Aiden Smith? He was a Muggle born who was killed with his parents in a motorcar accident this spring. His name has been crossed out. That is what should have happened if he indeed was dead. This suggests that he is still alive! That is why a letter was created for him; the book and quill are part of the magic that creates those letters.”

"Oh my goodness! How can we find him?”

“Unfortunately, his address is not on the envelope, which indicates that his location is unknown. As a first step, let’s go ahead and give the letter to one of our best owls; they have magic that even we don’t understand and can find people when we can’t.”

But, that summer, and every summer for the next five, an owl was sent out, and each owl returned with the letter still attached to its leg. The letters bearing the name of Harry Potter were never delivered.

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Chapter 2: The Final Battle

“Shoot!” he muttered. His best friend had just been hit and was out. The final battle was not going well. That was everyone; he was the only one left. But he was pretty sure the leader of the enemy forces was the only one left on the other side too. He was pinned down behind a rock just big enough to give him cover, but not to move. He looked around and saw a crumbling wall not far from him, but there was no way he could get there safely without some diversion. If he could make it there, he could rest a little and think of a plan to finally end this, once and for all. But how? He glanced up over the rock and had to duck quickly before a green blur shot past where his head had been just a fraction of a second before. He then spotted a smaller rock, just the perfect size for throwing. They had been battling most of the day and the light was starting to dim as the sun dipped down below the horizon. Perhaps he could fool him. He threw the rock into the bushes several yards to his right, making a large rustling noise. When he heard his opponent firing at the bushes, he sprinted toward the wall. He heard the opponent turn and start to fire at him; he saw the red blurs that had been fired, one aimed at his head, the other at the level of his knees. However, everything seemed to slow down and he could see that if he dove just right he could avoid both of them. He timed his jump perfectly, splitting the two shots. As he came back to earth, he ducked his head, rolled, and ended up behind the wall. Now he could catch his breath and figure out how to win this fight.

He had to end this soon because he couldn’t last much longer; he was as tired as he had ever been and his ability to continue to dodge and avoid his opponent’s fire was waning. He also had been suffering all day from a severe headache, centered on the lightning-shaped scar over his right eyebrow. As the battle proceeded, the pain just became worse and worse. He absent-mindedly rubbed the scar, wiping sweat off his forehead before running his hand through his jet black hair. He then heard the booming voice of his enemy. “Why don’t you come out and accept defeat? We’re the only two left and you know that you can’t beat me one on one. This dodging is just delaying the inevitable.” He knew his adversary was right; he didn’t have a chance in a face to face duel; his opponent was just too fast on the draw. So he would have to resort to one more trick. With the light fading, it wouldn’t take much to fool him. He saw a tree branch with two limbs coming off of it to either side, about the size of his torso. Perhaps if he could use this to dupe him, he could draw his fire away enough to let him get one shot; a split second diversion was all it would take.

He removed his sweatshirt and put it on the limbs, pulling up the hood over the top of it. He then positioned himself near the left edge of the wall and threw the covered branch so that it appeared to jump out from the edge. As soon as it cleared the wall, he spun around the right side and again things seemed to go in slow motion. He saw his opponent turn toward his ruse slowly and take aim at his sweatshirt. He then took aim himself and fired; his enemy turned toward him to see the green streak heading right toward his chest just before it arrived, his eyes wide open in disbelief. It hit him in the dead center of his chest, ending the final battle.

He walked over slowly to his defeated adversary, looked him in the eyes, and then shook his hand. “Great shooting today; I thought I was a goner,” said Brook Pelton to Jim Elliot, who had a green blot on his chest from the winning shot. Brook and Jim were captains of their respective paintball teams who had just met in the league championship. Jim’s team, Bad Mojo, had defeated Brook’s team, Friendly Fire, twice during the regular season, and had been undefeated, but the two teams had both advanced through the brackets to the championship, which determined who received the league trophy.

“You were on fire today; the way you were dodging my shots, I thought you were unhittable,” congratulated Jim, slapping Brook on the back.

“I could just see things differently today. Maybe all the training I’ve been doing to improve my fielding in baseball has been helping.”

“Whatever it was, it worked. But watch out next season; we’ll be ready to get some revenge,” Jim said with a friendly smirk on his face.

The rest of his team had arrived by then, giving Brook high fives and hugs for his victory before going to the awards ceremony. Arm in arm they climbed the steps to the top of the platform to receive their medals. Then, the league championship trophy was awarded to Brook who lifted over his head, starting a roar of cheers from his team while he was lifted up on their shoulders and carried out to the parking lot.

After the celebrations had died down, Brook started walking back to his motorcycle. “Are you coming to Phil’s, Brook? Everyone is going there to celebrate,” he heard his teammate Rob ask.

“Sorry, I am beat and I still need to study for my history final tomorrow. I think I’ll pass this time.”

After stripping off his filthy outer clothing, exposing a t-shirt and jeans, Brook put his gear into his backpack, put on a helmet, and then straddled his motorcycle. It was a beautiful evening for a ride, so he revved the engine and took off, burning rubber in the parking lot. I think I’ll take the scenic route home tonight and really let it out, he thought. This way home, while it would take a few more minutes than the interstate, had lots of winding roads and curves that allowed him to enjoy the speed and acceleration of the finely tuned engine. He was in a euphoric state; there was little that gave him as much joy as speeding through these back roads, taking the curves as quickly as he could. But as he was entering one of those curves, he noticed a little too late an oil slick and he felt his back tire begin to slide out. He thought for sure that the bike was going down and felt a wave of panic. But as quickly as the slide started, the bike righted itself and he was speeding along the road as if nothing had happened. Whew! That was close, he thought. I’m not sure how I pulled out that one. Maybe I’ll take it easy for the rest of the way home.

His heart had not stopped racing by the time he arrived home, but, after a shower, he finally started to relax. Almost as soon as he opened his history book to study for his exam, his head lay down on the pages covering the Civil War and he was fast asleep.

**********

Fortunately, his US History exam was fairly easy and his lack of studying didn’t hurt his grade too much. That evening, he took his girlfriend Lisa out to celebrate completing one more exam. After some ice cream, he drove her home.

“Good night, Lisa,” he said, giving her a good night kiss.

“I don’t have to go in just yet, Brook. Can we stay out here for a little longer?” Lisa asked, as she snuggled in closer and began kissing him more passionately. Brook then proceeded to begin nibbling on her ear, something he knew she really liked, eliciting a moan from her. He then left a trail of little kisses down her neck, causing her to say, “Oh, Brook, I love you.”

Brook, pulled back in alarm, caught by surprise at what Lisa had just said, and unsure how to respond. Do I love her? How can I know? What does love feel like? As these thoughts were streaming through his head, he saw Lisa’s face change from flushed from their previous activities to a questioning look to obvious hurt, as her eyes started to moisten.

Before he could think of what to say, the porch lights flashed several times. Lisa turned quickly, said, “Dad’s seen us; I’ve got to go,” and left the car. As she walked to her porch, Brook noticed that she wiped her eyes before opening the door to greet her dad.

Damn! he thought, hitting the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. Now what do I do? The whole drive home, he thought about their relationship and what he could have said. When he arrived home, he walked briskly through the family room, saying good night to his parents and went directly to his bedroom. He spent most of the night with those questions going through his head and sleep didn’t come until the sun was almost up.

Even though Brook had other exams to study for, he had difficulty concentrating as his thoughts constantly jumped back to his relationship with Lisa, as he repeatedly replayed their history together in his mind. They had started dating when he asked her to Homecoming at the request of his best friend, Aaron. Aaron had wanted to take Melanie, Lisa’s best friend, and Melanie was reluctant to go unless he found a date for Lisa too. Brook took some convincing, since he really didn’t date much.

“C,mon, bud, I’m begging you. You’ve got a lot in common. She’s in a couple of your classes, so you know her, and you even said that she was fun to work with on that group project last spring. And I’ve noticed you watching her walk down the hall,” he said, poking Brook in the side with his elbow.

“Well, she does have a pretty face.”

“She is not just pretty. She’s hot! And you know as well as I do that it wasn’t her face that you’ve been admiring as we walk behind her. Besides, if you did this, I’d really owe you. You know how long I’ve been working up the nerve to ask Melanie out. I really like her a lot. She may be the one. This may be my only chance at her.”

“So, you think Melanie might be ‘the one’? What about Sara last spring? Wasn’t she ‘the one’? Or Rebecca this summer? Wasn’t she ‘the one’? Or Kayla, or Chrissy ,or Brittany? You’ve had so many ‘the ones’ I can’t keep track of them all,” Brook said with a smirk on his face.

“Okay, okay. I have fallen hard for a few girls, but Melanie’s different. Please? I’ll never ask you for another favor.”

“Yeah, like I believe that one. Alright, I’ll do it.”

He had enjoyed himself that night and Lisa and he had became a regular item soon after. Aaron had been right; they shared many interests in common, a love for sports, a heart for serving others, enjoyed many of the same classes in school, had lots of fun together, and she was very attractive. He certainly liked spending time with her, but did he love her?

As he thought about their relationship more, it shouldn’t have surprised him that she had said she loved him. She had been dropping hints about their future together, especially after he had told her about his plans for senior year. Brook’s parents had wanted to take a long trip around Europe for years and, so, for his senior year, Brook was going to attend a private school in Scotland while they were touring around. On school breaks and long weekends they would come and visit or take him somewhere. This school’s schedule was more flexible than in the US, so there would be plenty of time to travel. A few weeks after school was out for the year they were going to leave, spending much of the summer traveling Europe. Brook was going to miss his friends, but he looked forward to the adventure of meeting new people and exploring new countries.

But Lisa wasn’t thrilled with their separation and she seemed to be looking for a sign of commitment from him. She had hinted that she wanted to wait for him while he was gone and even had suggested they go on some college visits together. It also occurred to him that some questions that he had originally interpreted as innocent attempts at getting to know him better, such as where he wanted to live after college and how many children he wanted, might have more meaning than he had first thought. Maybe I missed a lot of clues that her feelings were stronger than I thought, he considered.

Not surprisingly, his interactions with Lisa the next few days were a little awkward and stilted, as he continued to struggle with how he should respond to her admission. Whenever he tried to talk to her, she made an excuse that she needed to be somewhere and she never looked him in the eye. He was starting to get a little concerned, because that weekend was prom, and he didn’t want the dance to be uncomfortable. But as the week progressed, Lisa’s behavior changed and it was as if the conversation had never happened. Brook still felt like he needed to address the situation, but decided to wait until after the prom to broach the subject.

Saturday morning, as he was getting dressed, he heard a knock on the door. “Come in.”

His dad opened the door. “Hey, Brook. What do you think about the two of us changing the oil on the Mustang and then clean it up for tonight. You want it to look nice for Lisa, don’t you?” Brook and his dad had restored a ’68 powder blue convertible Ford Mustang over the last two summers, and they were both proud of the result.

“Yeah, that would be great, Dad. I was planning on washing it this morning anyway, and I would like the help getting it to gleam.”

So they got to work on the Mustang, where they had spent so many hours bonding over the years when they had restored it from the ground up. For a while, the conversation was about the usual stuff, school and baseball. But after about an hour, Dad said, “Brook, your mom and I have noticed that you’ve been quieter than usual. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just have a lot on my mind.”

“What’s troubling you? Worried about exams?”

“No, I‘ve got those covered.”

“Everything okay with Lisa?”

“Yes. . . no . . . Oh, I don’t know.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“I don’t know.” After a few minutes of silence as they buffed the wax off, Brook asked, “Dad, how did you know that you loved Mom?”

His dad hesitated a few moments before answering, which was something Brook always appreciated when having important talks with his dad; he knew that Dad would always think before responding and not spout off the first thing that came to mind. “Questioning your feelings for Lisa?”

Brook hesitated also, not sure how much to reveal. Oh, well, might as well go all in. “Yeah, she told me that she loved me this week, and seemed hurt that I didn’t say it back. But I didn’t know how to respond.”

“That’s a hard one; it’s different for everyone. I guess there were a couple of things that clued me in that I loved your mom. I became more interested in her happiness and well-being than my own. She has a smile, a glow when I’ve done something special for her that I know is just for me, and I wanted to see that look as often as I could. Whenever we were apart, I felt like some part of me was missing, and I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. And of course, there was that spark whenever I saw her. The things my heart would do when she walked into a room, touched my hand, kissed me. . . ”

“I don’t need to hear about that, Dad.”

His dad chuckled, “Yeah, I guess you probably don’t, but it wasn’t just physical attraction; it was something more. It’s hard to describe, but it’s still there to this day.”

“When did you know? How long before you knew that you were in love with her?”

“Well, you know our story. We were little more than acquaintances in college, not even what I would call friends. We met while working on the decorations for a dance at our dorm. Then I graduated and went to grad school. Two years later she got in contact with me, and we started writing back and forth with a few in-person visits sprinkled in. Over that time, we became close friends, but didn’t start dating officially for about two months. But, within a month of dating, we both knew that we were going to get married eventually. So, it depends on how you count it, but either one or three months.”

“Oh.”

“How do you feel about Lisa, Brook? Do you think you love her?”

“I like her and I enjoy spending time with her, but, no I don’t think I love her. I certainly don’t feel any of the things that you felt about Mom. At this point, I don’t see us being together forever, and if we did break up, while I would miss her some, I don’t think I would be crushed. There is something missing, maybe that spark you describe.”

“Now remember that we were not typical; Mom and I have always felt that God made us for each other and we just needed to find our ‘other half’. Most couples know each other a lot longer before they know that they are in love. Just because you and Lisa have been going out for a while doesn’t mean you should know by now. And you are a lot younger than we were and we had both dated some. Lisa is your first girlfriend.”

“So what should I do? Should I break up with her?”

“I wouldn’t jump to that right away. I would suggest you talk to her. Explain to her that you do like her and are having fun with her, but you don’t love her, at least not yet. Then you put it in her court, would she like to continue dating until you leave to see if it grows into something else or does she want to break up because you are not in the same place in the relationship. But, whatever you do, don’t do it tonight! Don’t ruin your prom with this discussion.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on having a big heart-to-heart at the dance. Maybe tomorrow; we’re supposed to have a picnic lunch after church.”

“That sounds like a plan. Try not to think about it too much tonight and just have a good time.” He put his arm around Brook and led them into the house. “Maybe you should try to take a nap; it could be a long night with the dance and then the after-prom.”

“Sounds like a good idea, but I have to go into town and pick up my tux and Lisa’s flowers first. Can I take the van since the Mustang is clean?”

“Sure.”

Brook drove into town and parked at one end of the shopping district and walked to his destinations since it was such a beautiful day. As he was walking to the florist, he noticed a middle-aged man who was walking behind him. There was something different about him, but Brook couldn’t place it. He gives me the creeps, thought Brook. As he opened the door to the florist, he noticed the man stop one shop away and look in the window.

Brook paid for the corsage he had picked for Lisa (with a little help from Mom) and left, heading up the street toward the tux shop. As he reached the corner and checked out the traffic to see if it was safe to cross the street, he saw the man again, one shop behind him. As soon as Brook turned and spotted him, the man turned abruptly and acted like he was window shopping once again. Okay, he is definitely following me. What can I do to lose him? Brook looked down the street and saw a semi coming towards him. He darted across the street, directly in front of the truck, causing the driver to brake suddenly and blow his horn. Brook then, under the cover of the truck, slipped into an antique store and hid behind a large wardrobe just inside the front door. From his vantage point, he could see the man cross the street after the truck passed and then look all over for Brook. He peered in the window of the antique store, but Brook was able to pull his head back so that he wasn’t seen. The man then continued down the street. Whew! Looks like I lost him.

“Can I help you, son?” the owner of the store asked him, causing Brook to jump.

Relieved that it was just the shop owner, he took a deep breath and relaxed. “Oh, no. I’ll just be leaving now.”

As he opened the door, he looked to his left to make sure the man was gone, but didn’t see someone else coming from his right, resulting in a collision. They both fell to the ground, with Brook on top.

“Oi, most of the time I make a bloke to at least treat me to dinner before I let him put his hand there.” Brook looked down, seeing his hand on her chest, quickly removed it and rolled off of her and got up as fast as he could, turning all shades of red.

“I’m so sorry; I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He looked down at the blonde who was just sitting up. She was petite, looked about his age, and was wearing a short skirt and tank top. He did not recognize her, which wasn’t surprising since no one at his school had a British accent.

“Well, at least you bought me flowers before you felt me up,” she said as she picked up Lisa’s corsage that had fallen next to her. As Brook sputtered, she continued, “No worries, mate. Just taking the mickey out on you.” She looked up the street, and added, “Bloody hell, lost him now, didn’t I?" She looked back at Brook and asked, "Help me up, will you?”

Brook reached down his hand, and as he lifted her up, she looked up into his face, and then gasped and turned white as a sheet. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Brook thought he heard her mutter something like, “Might have,” before she answered more coherently, “No, um, I’m fine. Just a little bit of a start, you know. I’ve got to run. See you around.” She turned and started walking up the street, and then turned around and came back to Brook, gave him the corsage she was still holding, and almost ran away up the street, leaving a stunned Brook standing there on the sidewalk. An odd one, she is, he thought. Guess I better pick up my tux and get home before anything else strange happens. p>A/N: So it really begins. This is the first fanfic I started over three years ago and it's a long one, over 200,000 words at this point (and it's not done yet). It is also the one I care about the most. All of my other stories have been ways to remove writer's block when I have been stuck on this one.. Hopefully you will enjoy it as well. I promise that it will be a completed story, but it may take a while. One of my pet peeves is falling in love with a story and then learning that it will never be finished.

When I first had the idea, I struggled with coming up for ways to explain how Brook would be able to learn magic so easily (Spoiler alert: I am sure you are not shocked that he will learn that he is magical) . Eventually, the idea of paintball to mimic magical duelling came to me, which also gave me the obvious take on the Who song for the title. I also thought that the combination of motorcycle riding and flying (seen next chapter) would be a good way for him to catch on to flying a broom.

The story of how Brook's parents started dating is an abridged version of how my wife and I got together. We really did know that we were going to be married after only a month of dating. Not quite love at first sight, but close. And we are still together; we will be celebrating our 25th anniversary in a few months.

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Chapter 3: Dances and Diamonds

Dances and Diamonds

The prom was fun. The couple started with dinner with his best friend Aaron and Melanie. They then went to the dance, and, while the live band was a little lame, the DJ that provided music for most of the night had a great mix of fun to dance to fast songs and slow songs, allowing for ample time to hold each other close. After the dance, Brook escorted Lisa to the Mustang, opened her door for her, and then got in the driver side. They spent a few minutes making out in the car before Brook asked, “Shall we go to the after-prom?” The parents had organized a party for the students that would be a safe place for them to have fun and avoid the use of alcohol that had been a problem in the past.

“I was thinking that we would go somewhere else.” She reached into her clutch and pulled out what was obviously a hotel room key. “Since you’re going to be leaving soon, I wanted this night to be special. I wanted to give you something to help remember me by when you are in Europe next year.”

Brook understood Lisa’s implication immediately, but, while he was tempted, he was torn. He didn’t want to lead her on and make her believe there was more there than there was. Before he could answer, she leaned over and kissed him again, her tongue entering into his mouth and her hand travelling up his thigh, and Brook started questioning his resolve. “Come on, Brook, I know you want to,” she whispered between kisses.

But then Brook heard a voice in the depths of his brain say She’s not the one. He blinked, pulled back, and said, “Lisa, I don’t think this is a good idea. I really like you a lot, but this is a big step, and taking it right before I leave for a year would be a mistake.”

“Don’t you love me?”

“Lisa, I am not sure what I feel for you, but, no, I don’t think I love you. I am sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but I also don’t want to lead you on and give you the wrong impression.”

Lisa’s face dropped into her hands and she started sobbing. “Lisa, please, don’t cry. I am sorry,” he said as he put his arm around her shoulders.

She twisted away from him and yelled at him, “Don’t you touch me! Don’t ever touch me again! Take me home! NOW! I never want to see you again!”

“Perhaps that would be best,” he mumbled, barely audibly.

After a very awkward ride home, with Lisa either crying or yelling at Brook to shut up whenever he tried to say something, he pulled into her driveway. Lisa jumped out of the car before he had a chance to get to her door and she ran inside. Brook sat for a few minutes in shock. This is definitely not the way I thought this night would end, he thought. Eventually he left Lisa’s house and went home. When he got inside, he took off his shoes and tried to quietly go to his room, but he noticed a light on in the family room and saw his mom sitting on the couch, curled up with a book.

“Hey, Mom. You’re up late.”

“And you’re home early. We weren't expecting you home for hours. I thought you were going to the after-prom.”

Brook paused and then said quietly, "Lisa had other ideas."

“The dance didn’t go well?”

“No, that was fine. It was afterwards that didn’t go well.”

“Would you like some milk and cookies and tell me about it? I made your favorite, chocolate with chocolate chunks and they’re still warm,” she said as she arose from the couch and headed for the kitchen.

Brook shook his head and said, “Sure, Mom,” and joined her. He had no idea how she did it, but she had the uncanny ability to always know when he needed to talk and had freshly baked cookies for them to share. She had a wide assortment of different types, but she tended to make ones with chocolate most of the time. “You can never have enough chocolate,” she always said.

After they had sat down across from each other at the kitchen table with a full plate of cookies and two glasses of milk between them, his mom asked, “So, what happened?”

“Did Dad tell you about our talk this morning?”

“Yes, he did. Hope that was okay.”

“That’s fine. I just needed to know how much background you needed. So, you know that Lisa told me that she loved me, but I don’t think I am in love with her at this point.” She nodded as she chewed. “Tonight, after the dance she didn’t want to go to the after-prom.” He hesitated and looked down at his napkin and added, “She had reserved a room at a hotel.” He blushed, realizing what he was talking about with his mom.

“Oh.” She took another bite of her cookie, letting him continue.

“She said she wanted to give me something to remember her by when I was gone.”

“And how did you react?” When Brook turned bright red, she quickly said, “No, sorry, I didn’t mean that.” She hid her smile behind her hand. “Let me rephrase that. What answer did you give to her offer?”

“I told her that this was a big step and that I didn’t think it was a good idea. Then she got all upset and asked if I loved her. And I told her the truth, that I didn’t think I did love her. That’s when she started crying and yelled at me to take her home and that she never wanted to see me again. I feel horrible, but I don’t know what else I could have done. It wouldn’t be right to lead her on and I couldn’t lie to her.”

His mom got up and walked around the table and hugged Brook. “I am really proud of you, son. Most teenage boys would leap at that opportunity and you maintained your integrity. You even showed how much you respected her not to take advantage of her. I don’t think you could have done anything differently either. Sometimes you can do all the right things and you can still hurt someone.”

She sat back down in the seat next to him. “I know you may not want to hear this right now, but this might be for the best. It sounds like she wanted to wait for you while you are in Scotland, and from what you are telling me, you aren’t really interested in that.”

“You’re right. I’ve enjoyed my time with her, but my feelings for her aren’t strong enough for me to want to maintain a trans-Atlantic relationship.”

She got a smirk on her face and said, “Besides, it’s obvious she’s not the one for you; she’s not a redhead.”

“You’re never going to let me forget my ‘dream girl’, are you?”

“Nope. C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

As they reached the door to his room, Brook turned and grabbed his mom into a hug. “Thanks, Mom. I love you,” he said before entering his room, leaving his mom in the hallway, wiping her eyes.

**********

The next day, Brook woke up suddenly in a pool of sweat and his heart racing. He had that nightmare again. He never remembered much of it, just a woman screaming and a bright green light, and then he would awake terrified, as if he was being chased by an unseen monster. He didn’t understand what was so frightening about the dream and he couldn’t make any sense of it. He had had these dreams his whole life; when he was younger his parents often took hours to settle him down afterwards. They never happened often, but when they did, he knew that he was unlikely to get back to sleep.

He looked over at his clock and saw that it was 5:30 and light was just starting to stream through his curtains. His heart was still racing; it was starting to slow a little but he still had this sense of anxiety and doom. “Might as well get up,” he muttered. “I know I won’t be getting back to sleep. Perhaps I will go over to the hanger and take one of the planes out. Maybe that will help me get out of this mood.”

He drove over to the airport and used his dad’s ID badge to get him through the gate. He went through the side door in the hangar and checked the logbook to see if any of the planes were fueled up and ready to go. He was in luck; the Extra 200 was prepped and read. Perhaps Dad plans on us flying later today. He opened the main hangar doors, started up the plane, and drove it out to the runway. A few minutes later he was up in the air in the small stunt plane, appreciating the sunrise through the scant clouds in the east. After flying lazily about 15 minutes, he decided to have some fun. He started with some loops and some barrel rolls. He then pulled a stall turn, pulling the stick back until the plane was vertical and then tumbled to the side, sort of just falling out of the sky. As he was diving back to earth, an observer would think the plane was out of control, but before he crashed, he pulled it out the dive. He let out an excited whoop, wondering what his parents would think of his maneuvers. He could picture his dad just shaking his head, but his mom would have been terrified and would have grounded him from flying for weeks. That is why he and his dad had never shared the truth about some of his stunts.

He flew for a while longer before landing again at the airport. The feeling of loss and fear was gone; flying was the only way he had found to battle the emotions after one of those nightmares. It was like a drug; he had never tried alcohol or drugs, but he imagined that the high he got from flying was similar, except that it didn’t have any side effects, like a hangover, though occasionally enough barrel rolls would make him a little nauseous, he thought with a smirk on his face.

**********

A few days later, he was playing in a different championship, the regional championship for his high school baseball team. The winner of this game would be in the state semifinals, one game away from playing for all the marbles. It was the bottom of the seventh and final inning, and Brook’s team was up 2-1 with two outs, but the bases were loaded. Brook had called a meeting at the mound to encourage the pitcher and the rest of the infielders. “Don’t give him anything he can hit hard; all we need is a simple grounder and this game is over. Remember, we can’t let anything out of the infield. Make sure you keep in front of the ball. Knock it down if you have to but don’t let it get past you.”

Brook went back to his position at shortstop, but cheated a little toward 2nd base as he remembered this batter tended to hit straight away. The crowd was going crazy with wild cheering. Brook took a peek into the stands and saw his parents on their feet, his mom yelling at the top of her lungs and his dad holding the video camera up to his face. He smiled to himself, thinking how great it was that his parents were always there to support him and never missed a game, even if taping every game was a little overboard in his opinion. Before his attention returned to the game, he noticed the man that he had thought was following him a few rows up from his parents. When he saw the man, their eyes locked for a moment and an unsettling leer appeared on the man’s face, giving Brook a chill. A few rows back, he also noticed the girl he had ran into the other day downtown. What are they doing here? The umpire’s yell of “Play ball!” brought him back to the moment and he concentrated again on the game.

The first pitch was a nasty curve that caused a wild swing as it went into the dirt, but the catcher trapped it quickly before it could get away from him. The second pitch was a low fastball that the batter just watched as it went by, but the umpire called “Strike 2!” The catcher then called for another breaking ball, but unfortunately this one didn’t break and stayed up in the strike zone. Brook heard a metallic ping as the batter made contact. The ball flew past the pitcher before he could react. Brook took a few steps to his left but thought he had no chance of getting to it. Out of desperation, he dove, and, just like during paintball, time seemed to slow down and suddenly there was no sound. Please catch the ball, please catch the ball, he thought to himself. He saw his glove creeping toward the ball, but it looked like he was going to miss it by inches. But at the last second, he was shocked as he felt the impact of the ball against the webbing and then the impact of the ground against his face as he heard his glasses crack. When he looked down the ball was still in his glove; he lifted his arm, displaying the caught ball and time and sound returned to normal. His teammates rushed to him, followed by the crowd storming the field. For the second time in a few days, he found himself being lifted up on shoulders amid wild cheering. In one hand was the ball in the mitt, the other holding his glasses on his face since they were bent beyond repair. Life couldn’t get any better than this, he thought.

The next night, Brook and his parents had decided to go to Columbus and eat at their favorite Thai restaurant to celebrate the win the day before. It was another beautiful night so they had the top down on the Mustang. While they drove home, he knew that this was a special time to be with his parents. His dad had taught him how to play baseball when he was younger and was one of his first little league coaches. He remembered all the time spent playing catch in the backyard or fielding grounders to improve his play at shortstop, and he was truly grateful for the bond he had developed with his father through baseball. This was just one activity that they shared; he also spent hours with his dad working on the Mustang and flying one of their planes. Some of his friends thought he was odd to spend so much time with his father, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t trade that time for anything. He knew that his relationship with his parents was special; he had no doubts that he loved them and that they loved him.

But then his thoughts turned a little darker. What about his birth parents? He had been adopted at about eighteen months (they didn’t have his real birth certificate so they didn’t even know when his real birthday was) after being abandoned at his adopted parents’ house. How could my parents have done that, just leave me there on the porch in the middle of the night? What could have possessed them to do such a thing? Why didn’t they want me? Did they love him at all? And what were they like? He couldn’t help wondering what parts of him were from his birth parents and which were from his “real” parents. The whole “nature vs. nurture” thing. Did he look like them? Did his mom have black hair? Was his dad good at sports? Where are they now? Would we recognize each other if we met? For as long as he could remember, he had felt these mixed feeling about his birth parents, a longing to know them but a disgust at the rejection he felt when he thought of them. And then he would feel guilty, ashamed that he would still have the urge to know these people when he had such loving adoptive parents. Why do I still have this strong longing when I have all that I need right here in this car?

Brook was brought out of his reverie by his dad saying, “Earth to Brook, earth to Brook. Are you in there?”

“Sorry, I was just daydreaming. What were you saying?” His glasses, which the athletic trainer had taped together so he could wear them, were in his lap because, even after the fix, they didn’t fit quite right. He put them back on, trying to adjust them so he could see clearly.

“I was asking about your exams. Much studying to do tonight?”

“No, the calculus final tomorrow should be a piece of . . . Dad, watch out!” In the middle of the road was a man wearing what looked like a graduation robe pointing a stick at them. As his dad slammed on the brakes, the man flicked the stick and Brook felt himself fly through the air away from the car. As soon as he landed roughly in the grass by the side of the road, the man pointed the stick back at the car. A bright orange light erupted from it and sped right toward the front of the car, causing a huge explosion when it struck the hood.

The next thing Brook knew, the car was engulfed in flames. He stood up immediately, yelling, “MOM! DAD!”, but he found he couldn’t move towards the car. It was like there were invisible ropes around his chest, preventing him from advancing even one foot in the direction of the car. After several seconds of struggle, he collapsed to the ground and blackness surrounded him.

Back to index


Chapter 4: The White Wizard

The White Wizard

Brook struggled to open his eyes, but couldn’t find the energy to lift his lids. What happened to me? Where am I?

As he continued to fight to open his eyes, he heard voices. “What happened to him, Albus? Is he alright?”

“When Avery used Incendio on their automobile and it exploded in a ball of fire, the boy tried to go to his parents, and it took all of my strength to keep him back. He is amazingly strong. But, since he isn’t trained, he drained all his energy to exhaustion. He will be alright with a little rest.”

“Whew. I’m glad he isn’t hurt. I just wish we could have got there a little sooner and prevented the whole mess.”

“What’s past is past. We’ll just have to help him through the events of tonight. Did you take care of things at the site of the accident?”

“Yes. I captured Avery and have him bound in the basement. I also obliterated the license plate to slow down identification of the vehicle.”

“Thank you. Now, can you go outside and set up protections around the house so we will not be detected? We will only have a few hours before we will have to leave, but I would like to talk to our new friend in peace.”

“As you wish, Headmaster.”

Brook finally found the strength to open his eyes a slit, but couldn’t see much as everything was dark. As his eyes adjusted, he realized that he was lying on the couch in his living room. How did I get here? And who are these people? He tried to get up and groaned with the effort.

“Ah, I see you are awake. How do you feel, Brook?” said someone sitting in a chair, but Brook couldn’t see him in the dark.

“Tired, but otherwise okay. Who are you and what are you doing in my house? Where are my parents? Can we turn on some lights?”

“All in good time, my boy. I am afraid there is much to tell you, and not much time to do so before we have to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you answer my questions.”

At that moment, another person slipped in the front door, presumably the other voice from before, and said, “Everything is safe now sir. I’ve set up protective wards, an alarm in case anyone attempts to breach them, and notice-me-not charm. No one will disturb us for the next few hours.”

“Thank you, Nymphadora. Can you question the suspect, please?” Brook saw a movement from the first person and suddenly the room was filled with light. Brook blinked as his eyes adjusted and saw two people. An older gentleman with a long white beard and an outfit that clashed horribly was sitting in the chair next to the couch and a young woman, probably in her twenties, with bright pink hair, a grey cut-off t-shirt that exposed all of her midriff and showed a prominent belly button ring, a black motorcycle jacket, and jeans that had multiple rips in them. The older man pulled a small glass bottle out of his clothes that was filled with a clear liquid and held it out to her. “Here, this may assist you.”

The woman made a face. “Do I have to, Albus? I was sort of hoping to have some fun first,” her smile turning a little evil.

“Physical force won’t be necessary. Just use the potion. And, after you have the information we need, please do what you have to keep our presence a secret.”

“Alright, you’re in charge.” She took the bottle and proceeded towards the stairs to the basement.

Brook started regaining his faculties and again demanded, “Who are you people and what are you doing in my house? Where are my parents?”

“I am sorry to inform you, Brook, that your parents were killed by a terrorist earlier this evening. And you just narrowly escaped.”

Brook, numb from the news, continued to ask questions. “I don’t understand. Why would terrorists want to kill my parents?”

“That will require some explaining. First, do you know that you are adopted?”

“Wait, before I answer any of your questions, I want to know who you are.”

“I apologize for my manners. My name is Albus Dumbledore, and, I lead a specially trained counter-terrorism group in Britain, as well as being a headmaster for a school in Scotland.” He spoke in a British accent, but his voice didn’t sound as old as he appeared. Close up his face was lined with wrinkles, his half-moon glasses perched on a long, crooked nose.

“Why are you here?”

“One of my agents learned that a terrorist had been sent here to the States on a mission. Tonks, the young woman who was just here is one of my operatives. She has been following this man, Avery, for a few months, not sure what he was doing. But, when she learned a crucial piece of information the other day, specifically, what his mission was, she contacted me and I came immediately. We were just about to apprehend him when he killed your parents.”

“Again, it comes back to a terrorist killing my parents. Why would he do such a thing?"

“Like I said earlier, that will take a bit of explaining. As I asked before, do you know that you are adopted and that the Peltons are not your birth parents?”

“Yes,” he answered hesitantly. I get the idea that the only way I am going to get any answers is to go along with this.

“What do you know about how you came to be with the Peltons?”

“My parents had been struggling with infertility, but had finally conceived. Unfortunately, the baby, who they named Ethan, died in childbirth. They had the nursery all ready for this baby and never redecorated because it was too painful. On the morning of November 1st, 1981, they heard noises on the front porch, and, when they opened the door, they found me, wrapped up in a blanket, crying. They turned me into the authorities, but when no one claimed me, they adopted me. They had been trying to conceive a child for years and had given up after Ethan died, so they called me their ... miracle baby.”

The familiar story caught in his throat as he thought about the fact that he would never see his parents again.

“Do you still have that blanket?”

“Yes, I’ll go get it.” His parents always kept that blanket on the bench at the end of their bed as a remembrance of his coming to them. Brook returned with a red wool baby blanket with gold trim that had “HJP” monogrammed in one corner and an embroidered lion in the opposite one. “Here it is. My parents said that since the last initial matched theirs, I was meant to be theirs. They even chose to use the initials in naming me. My full name is Holbrook Jeffrey Pelton. Holbrook is a family name but they shortened it to Brook, thank goodness.”

Dumbledore had a wide smile on his face and his eyes looked like they might be a little moist. “I haven’t seen this blanket for 16 years. This confirms that you are who I thought you were. You see, your birth name is Harry James Potter. Let me tell you a little story.

“Almost 17 years ago, a war was going on in Britain between a group of terrorists, headed by an evil man who calls himself Voldemort, and my counter-terrorist group, which we call ‘The Order.’ Two of my operatives at the time fighting Voldemort were James and Lily Potter. They were also your parents.”

“You know my parents?”

“Yes, I knew them. They went to my school and after they graduated, they became colleagues, and, dare I say, friends. I cared for them quite a bit.”

Brook tried to control the hope that was starting to bubble up. He knows my parents! Maybe he can take me to them. Perhaps they might even want me back. “Where are they? Can I meet them?”

“I am sorry to say they died.” Brook dropped his head. Oh, well. I guess it was too much to hope that they would still be alive. “Let me continue. Voldemort hated your parents and wanted to kill them. When they learned that they were a marked family, they went into hiding. Through some deceit and betrayal, one of their best friends told Voldemort where they were hiding. Voldemort attacked them on Halloween night when you were fifteen months old, killing your parents, but when he tried to kill you, something happened and he failed. This man disappeared for many years and his followers disbanded. So, I retired the Order as well. But he recently has been gathering his forces again, and I have felt compelled to reform the Order. And you know that Tonks here has been following Avery to try to determine what his mission was.”

“That still doesn’t explain why a terrorist would have a mission to kill my parents.”

“His mission wasn’t to kill your parents, but we believe it was to kill, or at least capture, you.”

“What?! What would he want with me?”

“The same reason he tried to kill you sixteen years ago. You see, Brook, or should I call you Harry, you are a very special young man.”

“Special? What is so special about me?”

“More explanations. I mentioned earlier that I am a headmaster at a school. Hogwarts is its name. Hogwarts is . . . ,shall we say, a discriminating school that serves a particular student population, students that have special talents. And you have that talent as well. I would like for you to come and attend this upcoming year.”

“But I don’t have any talents. I’m tone deaf, I can’t play an instrument, and I have no artistic ability at all. Is it a sports school? That’s the only thing I can think of that would be considered a talent.”

“Our school is not for students with those talents either, but you certainly have the talent we are looking for, you just aren’t aware of it yet. Haven’t you ever noticed that you are a little different from others?”

Brook was confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for instance, do you seem unusually lucky?“

“I guess I do seem to avoid trouble and accidents sometimes. But that isn’t a talent.”

“How about when you are angry or scared? Has anything unexplainable happened when you are under stress, like things shaking in the room?”

Brook thought for a moment. “There have been a few times when we thought there was a minor earthquake because everything in the room was shaking, and no one outside of the house felt anything. Now that you mention it, I think I was angry the last time that happened. And then there was the time I was staying home by myself when I was eight or nine and the power went out. I was so scared and then the lights just came back on. The funny thing was that the rest of the neighborhood still had no power for a couple more hours. The power company couldn’t explain it.”

“Those certainly would fit with your talent. Can you think of any events when you were in danger and you mysteriously survived?”

“I can’t think of anything off the top of . . . wait. Last week, I almost spun out while I was riding home.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“I was driving a little too fast and the back end of my motorcycle slipped out and I was heading straight for the guard rail, when, all of a sudden, the bike pulled out of the spin and I was driving along the road again.”

“Do you remember doing anything that would have pulled you out of the spin?”

“No, but things happened so fast, I am sure I don’t remember everything.” He was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with how much this man seemed to know about him.

“Mm. That fits. Tonks here witnessed another occurrence that may be able to convince you that you indeed have a special talent: the final catch of the baseball game yesterday.”

“She was at the game?” He nodded. You’d think I would have seen her, he thought. She should have stuck out like a sore thumb.

“What do you mean? It was a hard hit line drive, but I dove and caught it. What is special about that?”

“Tonks mentioned that your father was recording your game. Have you watched that catch?”

“No.”

“I am not that familiar with your technology, but is there a way we can view what he recorded?”

"Sure." Brook went over to the TV, found the tape of the South game, and fast forwarded to the end.

As he was finding the right part of the tape, he heard the old man murmur, "Fascinating."

He watched the catch a few times and said, “Wow, that really was a good catch. I am not sure how I got there in time.”

“Is there a way you can watch it slower?”

“Sure, we can just watch it frame by frame.”

“Do that then, but this time focus closely on the ball.”

Brook, not sure why he was continuing to listen to this nonsense, did as the old man suggested. Maybe this will get him off my back, he thought. As he watched the ball closely in slow motion, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to make the catch. But at the last minute, the ball suddenly changed direction and curved right into his mitt. “How did that happen?” He rewound it and watched it several times and it did the same thing every time. “Perhaps there was a gust of wind?”

“Do you remember any wind that day?”

He thought for a moment. “No, it was a clear day with no wind at all, now that you mention it.”

“Do you remember what you were thinking when you were diving toward the ball?”

Brook racked his brain, trying to remember what had happened. “I was thinking to myself, ‘Please catch the ball, please catch the ball.’ But what made the ball curve like that?”

“I have an explanation for all of these events. They can all be accounted for by your talent.”

“Wait, you don’t think I have ESP, do you? Like telekinesis? I learned about that in psych class, but my teacher said that none of it was real. Do all the students in your school have abilities like that? Now, I got it. You’re like Professor Xavier and the X-men, aren’t you? Am I a mutant?”

The old man chuckled. “No, you don’t have ESP, but you do have something similar. And some people do believe that your abilities can be caused by a mutation. You see all of these can be explained by the fact that you are a wizard and you can do magic,” Dumbledore said with a smile on his face.

“Magic? You mean like card tricks and sawing women in half?”

His eyes twinkled. “No, real magic. You see, the full name of the school that I teach at is The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The special talent that our students have is the ability to do magic, just like you. Usually wizards and witches start their magical training at age eleven, but you have been hard to find up until now.”

“You mean to tell me that magic is real and not just something to read about in fantasy books? You’re pulling my leg right? April Fools was last month. Just because you look like Gandalf doesn’t make you a wizard.”

He chuckled again. “I have had other Muggles say that I look like Gandalf, but I assure you that magic is real and I am indeed a wizard. And so are you. All of these strange occurrences can be explained as acts of accidental magic. Most witches and wizards have episodes of accidental magic when they are younger, and with training they learn to control their magic.”

“So, all of these things, the house shaking, the lights turning on, the motorcycle near-accident, and even the baseball catch can be explained by magic?”

“Yes, would you like to see an example?”

“Sure,” Brook replied with a little skepticism.

“Well, I will start with a little transfiguration.” Suddenly, his cane changed shape into a wooden stick about a foot long, obviously a wand. He waved it, and, in a blink, his clothes, an ugly teal and brown paisley shirt and red and orange plaid golf pants suddenly changed into long, flowing purple robes with stars and planets moving slowly around on it. “I really hate the Muggle clothes I was forced to wear today.”

“What is ‘Muggle’?”

“Muggles are non-magical folk, those that have no magical ability.”

“What else can magic do?”

“Almost anything the mind can imagine, if you know the correct incantation. Engorgio,” he said as he pointed his wand at a ball of yarn by his mom’s chair and it grew to a size almost as tall as Brook.

He then pointed his wand at a book resting on an end table, said “Wingardium leviosa!” and the book lifted into the air and he used the wand to direct it to the end table at the other end of the couch, depositing it there.

“Do you have to use a wand? Or can you just twitch you nose or nod your head to do magic?”

Dumbledore’s face look puzzled and said, “Why would you think twitching your nose or nodding your head would enable you to do magic?"

“Just something I saw on TV. Nothing important.”

“In answer to your question, most wizards and witches use wands as the wand allows them to focus their magic, but stronger magical people are able to do wandless magic.” Dumbledore demonstrated by using his hand to float a sofa pillow from one end of the couch to the other.

At that moment, the woman came up from the downstairs. “I’m done with him, sir, and I did get some helpful information.”

“So, you say I’m a wizard, and I’m guessing that my parents were also. Are you a wizard, no I guess you’re a witch, right?” he asked the woman. When she nodded, he continued. “Was that man, Avery I think you said his name was, a wizard as well? I was confused as to why he was pointing a stick at the car. That must have been his wand.”

“Yes, your parents were magical and Avery is a wizard, as is his leader Voldemort.”

“You said that most wizards start school at eleven, but that I was hard to find. What did you mean by that?”

“When Voldemort tried to kill you, something happened and both of you vanished. I am going to have to do some investigation to explain it. It was assumed that you both were dead. The wizarding world celebrated that the war was over, and Potters became famous as martyrs. Everyone believed this until six years ago. You see, letters are written to all witches and wizards in Britain when they turn eleven years old, inviting them to attend Hogwarts. That summer something odd occurred and there was a letter addressed to Harry Potter, who everyone believed was dead. Then I checked the book that lists all magical folk in Britain, and, lo and behold, Harry’s name was still there, suggesting that you were indeed still alive. However, every owl that was sent with this letter came back with the letter still tied to its leg and Harry could not be found.”

“Wait a second; did you say owls were sent out with the letters?”

“Yes, all magical post is delivered by owls, but that is beside the point. I have been searching for you ever since, but never searched outside of Britain and Europe. But then, when Tonks met you the other day, she contacted me, telling me she found you, and here we are, meeting for the first time in sixteen years.”

“Tonks met me? I think I would remember her.”

Tonks pouted at him, and said, “I’m crushed you don’t remember me, ducks. After all, you did fondle me, and I don’t let just anyone do that.” She smiled, and suddenly she morphed into the girl he had run into on the street, causing Brook to gape. Then, she changed back to her original appearance.

“Can all wizards and witches do that?”

“No, Tonks is a metamorphagus, a rare witch who can change her appearance at will. That is what makes her such an asset to the Order.”

“Okay,” said Brook, hesitantly, obviously overwhelmed with everything he was learning. “How did you know I was this Harry Potter?”

“Like the Headmaster said, the Potters are famous as martyrs in the wizarding world. And you are the spitting image of your father, except for the eyes. I think those are your mum’s. I recognized you the instant I laid eyes on you. That’s how Avery found you as well.”

“Why was he looking for me? Was that his mission?” asked Brook.

“Yes, that’s what I learned from him. Voldemort had sent him to the US with the assignment of finding black haired, green eyed seventeen year old wizards from the Midwest and sending them back to Britain via portkey. He swears he doesn’t know why. I discovered that he had already visited Salem Witches’ and Wizards’ Institute and found one boy that met the criteria and had sent him. He was on his way to Tsoodzil Mystic University when he saw your picture in a newspaper and decided to see if you could be one of his targets since you looked so much like James Potter. He was following you around the last few days, unsure if you were magical or not, until he saw you at the baseball game. That is what convinced him that you needed to be kidnapped as well.”

“Why is this Volty . . . whatsits trying to kidnap boys who look like me? And why just from the Midwest?”

“According to Avery, Voldemort was magically transported to somewhere in Siberia when he tried to kill you. It has taken him these sixteen years to regain his strength enough to return to Britain. He surmised that, if he survived that spell and was sent thousands of miles in one direction, you must have survived as well and was transported the same distance in the opposite direction. That’s why Avery was looking for wizards from this part of the country.”

“I still don’t understand why he wanted me.”

“We are not sure. Perhaps he sees you as an enemy,” Dumbledore said. “You somehow defeated him as a baby and he wants to destroy you so that you can’t do it again.”

“But how could a baby be an enemy? What harm could I have done at that age?”

The old man hesitated before explaining. “Before you were born, there was a prophecy that stated that a baby would be born that could defeat him. He believed you to be that baby. His goal was to kill you before you could grow old enough to challenge him. I am guessing he still believes the prophecy and is still coming after you. Why he is transporting boys that meet your description to England, however, I don’t understand.” He turned to the woman, obviously changing the subject, asking, “Tonks, did you learn anything else from our guest downstairs?"

“I can tell you all the details later, but the most important piece of information that I gleaned that I haven’t told you yet was that Avery had not reported to Voldemort about finding you. So, good news, Voldemort has no idea you are alive.”

“That is wonderful. What did you do when you were done interrogating him?” asked Dumbledore.

“When I was sure that I had everything I needed, I made sure he won’t be able to tell anyone about us.”

Brook’s mouth opened wide. “Do you mean you just killed the man in my home? What kind of people are you?”

The woman chuckled. “Don’t you worry about him. He is very much still alive. I didn’t even hurt him; well, not too much. I just affected his memory so that he won’t remember seeing the headmaster or myself here or that you even exist. I sent him to Las Vegas, which is near Tsoodzil in New Mexico, and planted a suggestion that he had just spent a few days of vacation there before moving on to his next target. He will have a pretty good headache, but he’ll think that he had too much to drink last night. Avery is known for his fondness of Muggle liquor. Your secret is safe for the moment.”

“Well done, Miss Tonks. I will contact the Chief Hatahi at Tsoodzil in the morning to warn him that Avery will be looking for wizards that look like Harry here. Hopefully that will prevent any more kidnappings.”

A thought occurred to Brook. “Do you know anything about my scar? My parents said that when they found me it looked like a fresh wound.”

“You didn’t have that scar before that night, so I am guessing that the scar is a result of your being hit with the killing curse.”

“You certainly have a lot of answers. But I still find it hard to believe I am a wizard.”

“How about another experiment. I brought a few extra wands with me. Let’s see if any of them work for you. Here, take this one and wave it.” Brook picked up the wand, looked at it, ran it through his fingers and then waved it like Dumbledore had shown him. A few red sparks flew out the end. He took another, waved it, and a ceramic bowl that was on a shelf above the fireplace suddenly shattered. “Oops,” said Brook.

“No problem,” the old man said and pointed his wand at the bowl, saying “Reparo” and the bowl magically was as good as new.

“Well, does that convince you? Neither of these wands is right for you, but when we get you to Diagon Alley we will have to get you a wand that is suited to you and then we will start your training at Hogwarts.”

“Do I have to go to Hogwarts? I was actually planning on going to Scotland next year for my senior year, but now that my parents have died, I’m not so sure I want to leave home.”

“I think it would be best for you to come to Hogwarts to learn how to use your magic, while Voldemort is currently weak. If he regains his strength and finds out you are alive, he will come after you because you are the reason for his defeat. If you stay untrained and live like a Muggle, you won’t have a chance against him. At least if you are trained magically you can protect yourself. Tonks’ memory charm gives us some time to teach you as much as possible before he learns about you, if he ever does. Even if he doesn’t regain his strength, his followers still do remain and they could also target you if your existence became known. Unfortunately, you will have many enemies if you return to the wizarding world. You see, it is important for you to be trained as a wizard so you can defend yourself.”

“I guess I see what you mean." Brook thought for a few moments before asking, "You said that most wizards start school at eleven. I don’t think I would want to attend classes with a bunch of little kids. That would be awkward.”

“Most wizards and witches attend school for seven years, so there would be other students your age at the school. My thoughts are that it would be best is for you to come to Hogwarts as soon as possible, after your parents’ funeral and everything you have to take care of, and then undergo an intensive summer of training, trying to get you caught up as much as possible. We will focus on the most important disciplines and you will be exempt from fields like Herbology and Divination, which are not as vital to your survival. We will also focus more on skills than theory. Miss Tonks can help the faculty with this. Then, by the time school starts in September, hopefully you will be ready to attend with those of your age. You will probably still be behind, but with some continued tutoring during the school year. Based on what I have seen so far, I think you are a powerful wizard and hopefully you will catch on to things quickly.”

“You want me to leave immediately? This is pretty sudden.”

“I understand completely. Certainly this decision is life-changing and you do have a lot of other things on your mind. I don’t want you to make it without thinking about it. I would ask that you consider things quickly though, because the longer you take, the less time we have to train you this summer. One other thing, if you do come to Hogwarts, I would like to have you attend as Brook Pelton, not as Harry Potter. I think keeping your secret as long as possible would be helpful to both your re-entry into the wizarding world and for your safety. You need to understand that Harry Potter, along with your birth parents, is considered a hero, and once your existence becomes known, you will be a celebrity. Since you have so much to learn in a short time, I think it would be a lot easier for you if you were an American student that just learned he was a wizard.”

“Do all wizards and witches attend Hogwarts? What about the schools Tonks mentioned earlier here in the US?”

“There are several different schools that teach magic. American wizards and witches attend the Salem Witches & Wizards Institute or Tsoodzil Mystic University. There are also magical schools in other countries, like France, Norway, Brazil, and Japan.”

“Salem, as in the Salem witch trials?”

“Yes, the trials as you were taught about in school are one example of the wizarding world interacting with the Muggle world. Some Muggles learned about the existence of witches and there was a panic. Unfortunately, most of the people who were convicted and burned at the stake were actually Muggles and not witches. The ones that were true witches escaped easily, but used a spell called Confundus to make the authorities believe they had been killed.”

“Could I attend Salem or Tsoodzil instead?”

“Well, that is possible, but that would involve more people knowing your secret and the more people who know the truth, the more likely it is to slip out. I also think it will be easier to explain to your friends here about your absence. It is fortuitous that you were planning on attending school abroad already. That way you can keep that as a cover story; you don’t need to tell them it is a different school than you were originally attending.”

Oh, yeah. I'm supposed to be in Scotland with my parents. Brook looked down at his feet, trying to fight back tears that were threatening. “Wow, this is a lot to take in.”

“It is. I am sure you will have other questions as you are considering. I will leave you an owl and some parchment.” Dumbledore snapped his fingers and an owl appeared at the window, pecking at the glass. He walked over and opened the window and let the owl in. “Just write your questions, tie the parchment to his leg, and tell him to take it to me. It will be the easiest way to contact me.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of telephones?”

“I have, but regrettably, most Muggle technology does not work in the magical world, so we have found other ways to make life more convenient. You will find that many of your inventions will have magical counterparts in our world. I will leave you so that you can consider my offer. I will check back in a few days. Oh, I better change my clothes back so I won’t be looked at oddly.” With a swish of his wand, his robes changed back to his Muggle clothes. “Come, Miss Tonks. We have much to do to prepare if Harry is going to return with us.” Brook suppressed a chuckle, because, even with the changes to his clothes, the ugly golf pants and paisley shirt he was wearing would still receive some odd looks.

Brook went to bed after his two visitors left with thoughts racing around his head, about magic, about his parents, about his future. At least I know that my parents didn’t abandon me, he thought, but do I want to enter their world, a world that is so dangerous that there are people who wanted to kill me as an infant? But if I don’t learn magic, what happens if they find me? I wish I could talk to Mom and Dad about this. Chocolate chip cookies and milk sound real good about now. Those were Brook’s last thoughts before he fell asleep, tears soaking his pillow.

Back to index


Chapter 5: Goodbyes

Goodbyes

Brook stood at the mirror, fighting with his hair. The black messy mop just wouldn’t stay down, regardless of the amount of mousse or gel thrown at it. He looked at his new glasses, replacing the ones he broke in the baseball game the other day. He liked the more rounded lenses, sort of like John Lennon’s, just a little bigger. He gave up on his hair and began wrestling with his tie. Drat, I never could get this right. I’ll get Mom to tie it for me, he thought. He opened the door to his room and called, “Mom, I need . . .” Then he remembered. His mom would never be able to help him again.

He was getting dressed for her and his dad’s funeral. Then another of wave of grief hit him as it had every few hours the last few days and he collapsed on his bed, his head in his hands and tears falling from his face. He felt so empty and didn’t know how he was going to go on. Not for the first time, he wished he hadn’t been thrown out of the car, wished he could be with his parents.

A soft knock at the door and then Mrs. Roberts, his best friend’s mom, came in quietly. Without the Roberts, he didn’t think he could have made it through the last few days. She sat down next to him on the bed and put her arm around him, pulling him into a hug. “I heard you call for your mom. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wiped the tears away and said quietly, “I can’t get this tie right. Can you tie it for me?”

“I would be happy to. Aaron still can’t get his done correctly either. Stand up and let’s get this straightened out.”

As they stood and Mrs. Roberts adjusted the tie, Brook couldn’t help remember the last time his mom had done the same thing just a few weeks ago as he was getting ready for prom. He had come out of his room and asked his mom how he looked.

“Wow!” she replied with moist eyes. “You’re no longer my little boy, but a young man. But that tie, well it looks pitiful. Let me help you,” with a small smirk on her face.

As she stepped closer and restarted the knot, she her face became more serious and she said, “You know how proud we are of you, don’t you? We couldn’t have asked for a better son. There, that should do it. What do you think?” as she moved so he could look in the mirror.

“Thanks, Mom,” swallowing her up in a hug.

As she pulled back, she said, “Now, I’d love to do something about that hair, but it’s a lost cause. Lisa likes it that way anyway, doesn’t she?”

“She does seem to like the messy look.”

Brook was brought out of his flashback as Mrs. Roberts declared him ready. They went downstairs and got into the Roberts’ car for the drive to the church. Brook sat in the back with Aaron, but the normal banter between the two was missing. It was obvious that Aaron didn’t know what to say to Brook, but Brook could see the grief in Aaron’s eyes, too. Aaron had spent many hours at the Peltons, even going on vacation with them the last two summers, so he missed them too. Mrs. Roberts tried to get the two teenage boys to talk by discussing whether the Cleveland Indians or the Cincinnati Reds were better this year (a topic that usually resulted in a spirited discussion), but neither took the bait, so she gave up and the rest of the trip was silent.

At the church, Brook went through the motions of greeting people as they expressed their condolences. He had no idea how many hands he shook and how many hugs he received; the morning was just a blur. Soon it was time for him to go in as one of the ushers led him to the first row to sit by himself. He didn’t have much family and wasn’t close to any relatives. The Roberts were sitting in the row behind him and Mrs. Roberts gave him a pat on the back shortly after he sat down.

The pastor came in from the side and took the pulpit. “I would like to welcome you this morning to a celebration of two lives, Mark and Angela Pelton. The family, in particular Brook, would like to thank you for coming. Mark and Angela were a special couple. While their lives were cut short tragically, they used the time they had on this earth well. Mark grew up in . . .”

Brook blocked out the pastor’s eulogy as his mind wandered back to so many memories of his parents. While his dad had built a successful aviation company, he always made sure he had time for his family. Brook and he had spent many hours together, whether it was playing sports, watching Monty Python movies (something his mother just didn’t get), or working on cars. Dad had also taught him to fly, even before Brook was old enough to become licensed. He even taught him to fly the stunt plane he had flown the other day, but they kept that a secret from Mom. Because of his father’s collection of planes and love of flying, they often would fly their own planes to vacations. The family had been looking forward to Brook’s senior year. Brook’s parents were both genealogy buffs and were excited to search for clues to their ancestries in Great Britain. They were going to lease a corporate jet for the year to allow them to travel anywhere they wanted throughout Europe, taking Brook when he was between terms.

Brook looked up and saw that one of his dad’s friends was now at the pulpit, sharing his memories. “Perhaps the trait that exemplified Mark the most was generosity. As I am sure, most of you are aware, from the beginning, Mark made giving back a priority in his aviation company. He set aside 15% of the profits, initially giving to various charity organizations. But after going on a mission trip, his life was changed and he decided to be more personally involved. He began his own charitable organization, focused on delivering food and other items to people affected by natural disasters. He set aside money at first to purchase a cargo plane, then, once he had the plane, he would use that percentage of the profits to fill it with necessities so that he was ready whenever a disaster occurred. He has helped thousands of people all over the country and in the Caribbean as well. But Mark never wanted honor for this giving nature; it wasn’t until he was featured in USA Today a few months ago that he gained any notoriety for his generosity. As a matter of fact, he almost turned down the interview, because he didn’t want the attention on him but on the needs of the people he served. As it was, he insisted that the picture, which you saw when you came in, include both Angela and Brook. It would be safe to say that many of you here had no idea how much of his own money he put into his charity until that article was published. Through that article, his charity has received hundreds of thousands in donations, and was just ‘taking off,’ pun intended, when he died. Fortunately, he has people in place who can continue his vision.” That must have been the picture that Avery had seen that caused him to come after me. Great. That article is the reason my parents are dead.

Brook wiped tears away from his eyes as he heard tribute after tribute to his parents. At one point he looked back at the audience to see who had come, and was surprised to see Dumbledore and Tonks. Today he was dressed even more strangely than normal; he wore what looked like a black choir robe. Tonks looked more like the girl he had first seen her as, but a little older, and dressed in a simple black dress. As he glanced, Tonks gave him a little wave and a shrug, which he interpreted as sympathy. Brook tore his eyes away and continued to look over the audience. He spotted many classmates and teammates, friends from church, and, in one section, the employees of Pelton Aviation. It encouraged him to see so many people here to pay tribute to his parents.

He turned back to the front and one of his mom’s closest friends was now speaking. “Angela used her struggles and pain to support others. For years, Mark and Angela struggled with infertility; they really wanted a child. Angela kept her feelings inside for the most part. Most people would not have seen that she was struggling. Instead, her bright spirit shone through. Even after they lost Ethan in childbirth, she kept a positive outlook, saying that whatever God had in store for them, they would accept. After they adopted Brook, she made it her mission to help women one on one who faced the same inner battles that are seen with infertility: blaming themselves, grief, feeling incomplete as a woman. She had a way of listening with an open heart that you could tell she cared and could somehow lead you to new insights without saying much herself; you always felt as if you came up with the solution, but she was the one who made it possible. I was one of those women she counseled and took under her wing, and I can easily say that I could not have made it through those years without her help; she truly changed my life.” Brook also recalled those late night talks over milk and cookies. Again he found himself fighting off the tears. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make it without those late night talks.

There were a few other speakers, but Brook didn’t hear much of what was said. He did hear the pastor talking about them being in a better place and that, while it was normal to miss them, we should rejoice that they were in heaven. Brook had a hard time agreeing with that; he shared his parents’ faith, but, at this time, it was hard to be happy that his parents were in a “better place,” leaving him all alone. He sort of just tuned out the rest of the pastor’s closing until Mrs. Roberts nudged him a little, whispering that it was time to go.

**********

“Can’t we discuss this some other time?” Brook pleaded. “I’ve got a whopper of a headache.” Brook and his father’s second in command, Jay McKinnis, had been going through paperwork most of rest of the day. His parents’ will had recently been updated and, in addition to Brook receiving most of the estate, he also had been named president of Pelton Aviation, leaving him in charge. He was also the head of the various charities that his dad had run. There seemed to be a mountain of papers to sign and decisions to be made to keep the company and charities running after his father’s demise. The family’s lawyer had quickly petitioned Brook to be an emancipated minor, so he could legally sign as an adult, which gave him more freedom, but also a lot more responsibility.

“That’s almost all of it. Just a few more signatures and we can be done. I’m sorry, Brook, but you know we have to get this all done before you leave. Is this headache a bad one? Have you taken any medicine?” Jay asked, with obvious concern in his voice.

“No, I haven’t taken anything since nothing ever seems to work.” Brook had been having headaches the last few years and had been diagnosed with migraines, but none of the doctors seemed to be able to find anything that would take the pain away other than rest and time. The headaches always seemed to be focused in his forehead, and, sometimes the headaches were accompanied by voices or laughing. Most of the time the voices were more of a murmuring that he couldn’t make out, but occasionally it would sound like someone was cursing at full volume right in the middle of his skull. This had frightened him when it first happened, as he had learned in psych class that hearing voices was a sign of schizophrenia, but the doctors had assured him that these were actually auras that some patients with migraines had. “When we’re done I will try to take a nap to see if I can make it go away.”

They finished up and Jay got up to leave. "Brook, you are very mature young man. I am sure your parents are looking down on you with a lot of pride. Don't worry about the business while you are away at school; I'll take care of everything." He reached out to Brook and gave him a hug. "Goodbye, Brook. Have fun at school. Maybe meet a pretty girl with red hair," he said with a wink. With one last pat on the back, Jay left, allowing Brook to lie down on the couch.

Just as Brook was lying down, the doorbell rang. “Who could that be?” He got back up and opened the door.

“Mr. Pelton?”

Brook hesitated for a second, before realizing that the man was referring to him and not his dad. “Yes, what can I do for you?”

“I am here to talk to you about the future of Pelton Aviation. My name is Eric Livingston and I represent a firm that is interested in buying your company. While I am sorry for your loss, I am sure you understand the importance of not letting the company lose any of its value with your father’s death. I am also sure you don’t want to run the company; after all, you are only 17 years old. Imagine what you could do with all of the money that I can offer you.” Brook felt like the man was talking down to him, like he was a young child, not an independent (almost) adult.

“I am sorry I am not interested in selling the company at this time. My father’s leadership team assures me we can get through this difficult time with the company intact and thriving.”

“But, FRP Enterprises is willing offer you millions of dollars for the company that you could use to do almost anything. Cars, mansions, pools, the sky’s the limit.”

“Who did you say you represented?”

“FRP Enterprises.”

“FRP Enterprises! You tried to run my dad out of the business several times, one time by lying to his clients that he was an alcoholic! I would never consider selling to you!” He felt his headache worsening as his anger grew.

“Please listen to reason. I could make you a very rich young man.”

The headache worsened so that it felt as if a spike was being driven into his forehead. He closed his eyes and struggled to stay standing. Then, he heard a voice yelling, “How dare you ask me that! Get the hell out of my sight!” As both his headache and anger grew, he thought that what the voice in his head said actually sounded pretty good. So, he screamed those words at the top of his lungs at the small man, and, just as he was going to grab the doorknob to slam the door in his face, the door slammed shut on its own. At first, He was confused how that happened, but then had a realization. That must be another example of what they called ‘accidental magic.’

Well, at least he’s gone and I can lie down, he said to himself. Again, just after he had flopped down on his bed, the doorbell rang.

“Don’t tell me he’s back,” he muttered, striding back to the door, ready to give him another piece of his mind. But, when he ripped open the door, the small man from FRP Enterprises was not there, but Dumbledore and Tonks.

“May we come in, Brook?”

“Sure.” He led them into the living room and laid down on the couch after they had sat down. “I’m sorry, but I’m not too sociable this afternoon. I have a splitting headache.”

“Perhaps I can help you with that,” said the old man. He pulled out his wand, a vial from his robes, and as he pointed his wand at it, suddenly the vial filled with a purple liquid. “Try this; it does wonders for headaches.”

Brook took the vial and, with a little hesitancy, gulped it down. After a few seconds, Dumbledore asked, “Is the headache gone?”

Brook scowled. “No, of course not. Give it a little time.”

“Is it any better at all?”

“No, I still feel like someone is drumming on my forehead. Should I be feeling the effects already?”

“Curious. Yes, that potion generally works instantly. Sorry that it didn’t work for you. How are you holding up?”

“As good as can be expected. I still feel like it’s not real most of the time, that my mom and dad will just walk through the front door as if they were returning from a trip.”

Tonks came over and gave him a hug. “It will get better, Brook. I bet getting out of the house and going somewhere new will do wonders for you.”

“Yes, I’m sure it will. Brook, we have some news for you. I have been doing some investigating and think I have determined why you ended up here in the U.S. when Voldemort tried to kill you.”

“Really? Why?”

“Well, I’ll have to admit that I was in such great shock after your birth parents were killed to explore your home immediately afterwards, but I did after I learned that you were alive six years ago. The house had been placed under a preservation spell, so it hadn’t changed one bit since. At that time, one of the things I examined was Lily’s library for ideas on what she might have been working on, but all I could glean was what books were out on the table. And, as I didn’t have any idea specifically what I was looking for, it didn’t really help me. But, now with the information we learned from Avery, I was able to narrow down my search. I spent a few days at the Salem Institute library and reviewed the books she had been using, looking specifically for spells that would transport someone great distances. It seems that your mother must have cast some very ancient magic on you to protect you in case Voldemort did come after you. The magic, when hit with the killing curse, would instantly send you away from your attacker to your closest relative.”

“Then, how did I end up here?”

“With a little more probing, I was able to learn that Angela Pelton was actually Lily Potter’s second cousin. Did you know your grandmother was British?”

“Yes, I remember Grandma Tanaka well. She had married a Japanese businessman who was visiting London and then they moved here. Everyone, before they met her, expected her to be your typical Asian woman because of her name, when instead she was tall, blonde, and had a thick British accent. She surprised a lot of people with her appearance.”

“So, the magic your mother Lily cast on you sent you to your mother Angela, your closest relative.”

“Wow. So, Mom and Dad are actually related to me. That’s a lot to take in. All of this magic stuff is going to take some getting used to.”

“I am sorry to pressure you, Brook, but have you made your decision about coming to Hogwarts?”

“What you said the other night does make sense. It sounds like I will be in danger if anyone learns my birth name, and I am intrigued to see what I can learn.”

“Good. How about your affairs? Are they taken care of?”

“Yes, just finished everything a few minutes ago. So, when do I leave? And how do I get there? Magic carpet, perhaps?”

“Actually those are banned in Britain, but we have been thinking about other options. We think that it would be best for you to fly on an airplane. That way, your friends won’t suspect anything is different than just you going to school. We can arrange for a ticket for you in a few days. So, please start packing your trunk.”

At Brook’s confused look, Tonks chuckled. “Albus means suitcases. Most of our students use old fashioned travelling trunks, but you couldn’t fly with those.”

“There are also some other precautions we need to discuss before you leave.”

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Chapter 6: Snowglobes and Fireplaces

Snowglobes and Fireplaces

A week later, a young man with sandy hair, blue eyes, glasses, and no distinguishing features got off a plane at Heathrow Airport. After pickin up his luggage and going through Customs, he stopped quickly in the restroom. While he was washing his hands, he looked up in the mirror and was startled by the face reflected there. That’s still a little disconcerting, Brook thought, seeing a totally different face staring back at me in the mirror. One of the precautions that the Headmaster had suggested was a change in appearance. “You look too much like your father. Even if you keep Brook Pelton as your name, people would recognize you as a Potter, just like Tonks and Avery did.” So, Dumbledore had enchanted his class ring so that, whenever he wore it, he had a completely different look. His hair and eyes were different colors and his scar was hidden. Dumbledore had changed his passport magically so that it matched his new appearance.

After leaving the restroom, he looked out for his contact. He was told to look for an older woman with her hair in a bun carrying a sign with his name on it. He eventually spotted her and walked up to her. “I am Brook Pelton. Are you Professor McGonagall?”

“I am indeed. I am pleased to meet you. Professor Dumbledore has shared your secret with me Mr. Potter, but I’ll call you Mr. Pelton so that I don’t slip up. Let’s get your luggage and then we will go to Hogwarts.”

“Pelton will be great as I am not used to Potter just yet. I doubt I would remember to answer to it if you did call me that or Harry.”

After picking up his suitcases, the professor led him down a deserted corridor with a dead end. “Why are we here?” Brook asked. “This hallway takes us nowhere.”

Professor McGonagall turned around, checked to see no one was watching, pulled out her wand, and muttered something while waving it in a complicated swish and twist. The entrance to the corridor became hazy and the people walking by looked fuzzy. “That will prevent anyone from seeing us.” She then pulled out a round glass sphere, which Brook identified as a snow globe. “This is a portkey. It is just one of the methods of magical transportation that you will learn about, but it is one of the few that can get you into Hogwarts. Just put your hand on the globe while holding on to your luggage. Don’t let go until we reach our destination.”

Brook did as he was told, putting his hand on the globe. The professor tapped it with her wand and suddenly Brook felt a tugging sensation from his insides, as if a hook was trying to turn his navel inside out. There was a swirling of colors around him and he felt like he was falling through space for a few seconds before he tumbled to the ground, his luggage landing next to him. He found himself in a round office with all sorts of weird looking gadgets, some of which were moving on their own and spewing puffs of smoke. He pulled himself up off the floor and, as he got his bearings, he noticed that Professor McGonagall was there as well. He then heard from behind him, “Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry, or should I say, Brook.” He turned and saw Dumbledore, sitting behind a large desk. Directly behind the desk was a large portrait of a man dressed in robes and a pointed hat with his eyes closed. He looked a little closer and the man seemed to be breathing, and then, he snored loudly before quieting. “What is that?” Brook asked.

“That is a portrait of Armando Dippet, the headmaster of Hogwarts before I took the position,” answered Dumbledore.

“But why is he snoring?”

“Headmaster Dippet was always fond of an early afternoon nap. Oh, you mean why is a portrait snoring and not stationary. Well, that is just one difference between the Muggle and magical worlds. Our portraits can move, talk, and interact with you. You will get used to it.”

Brook then heard a squawk and he turned to find, next to the desk, a perch with a large scarlet bird with orange and gold feathers on its belly. “This is Fawkes, one of the few phoenixes alive today.”

There was a silence and Brook didn’t know what to do. Feeling a little awkward, he said, “Pleased to meet you, Fawkes.” The bird responded by bowing its head and trilling, which seemed to calm his nerves a little.

“Would you like to unpack and move in before dinner?” Dumbledore asked.

“Sure, I am a little hungry. Where should I take my stuff?” asked Brook.

“To answer that, you need to be sorted.”

“What is ‘sorted’?”

Professor McGonagall piped in. “At Hogwarts, we have four houses. These houses are the people you will live with during your stay here. Each house has its own dormitory. They will be like your family. There are various competitions between the houses, including the House Cup, which is awarded at the end of each year. You will gain points for your house by doing well and lose points by breaking rules. Each of the four houses has different personality traits that it holds high. For Hufflepuff it is loyalty, for Ravenclaw it is intelligence, for Gryffindor it is courage, and for Slytherin it is ambition. To determine which house is best for you, the Sorting Hat is placed on your head and it will sense your character traits.”

A voice then came from behind him, saying, “Thanks, Minerva, for stealing my thunder. I was going to try out my new song for next year, but, since you told all about the houses, it would be redundant.”

Brook tried to identify the source of the voice and then saw Professor McGonagall remove a charcoal grey pointed hat from a shelf. The folds of the hat moved, looking sort of like a mouth as the voice continued, “I don’t often get called into duty except at the Opening Banquet. Who do we have here?”

“This is Brook Pelton. He is an American who just discovered he was a wizard. We are going to tutor him over the summer to help him catch up with the seventh years, which would be his class had he started at age eleven.”

“I don’t often get to sort someone so old. This will be a pleasant change.” Professor McGonagall placed the hat on Brook’s head. As soon as it was atop his head, Brook heard a voice in his head. “Well, this is difficult. You seem to be trying to fool me with your appearance, but you can’t hide your mind behind a spell. Let’s see, I see that you have great magical power and could go far in Slytherin. You are cunning as well. But, while it is challenging to sense because of that glamour spell, you do have a strong current of courage running through you. It is almost as if you had parents that were Gryffindors. Is this true? I thought you were American.”

My parents did attend Hogwarts, but I didn’t know them, Brook thought. Were they in Gryffindor?

“They must have been. I can sense your courage as I only do in students who have two Gryffindor parents. Where should we put you, Slytherin or Gryffindor?”

I would prefer to be in my parents’ house, if I have any say in the matter.

“Gryffindor, it is!” the hat said aloud.

Professor McGonagall looked very pleased as she said, “Let’s get you settled into the Gryffindor dormitory then. You can leave your luggage here.” She led him down some stairs and through what seemed like a maze of corridors. As they walked, the professor said, “I am the head of Gryffindor house, so you can come to see me if you need help with anything.” Brook couldn’t help staring at his surroundings as they walked. He saw more moving portraits, some of which welcomed him to Hogwarts. Some of the flights of stairs were switching positions, even as they were walking on them. “You’ll get used to finding your way around over the summer. It does get confusing, especially with the moving stairs.”

“Professor, did you know my parents?”

“Oh, of course, I knew them.”

“What can you tell me about them?”

“Let’s get to your dorm before I say anything.” After a few more turns, they stopped before a painting of a large woman. “Here we are. This is the Fat Lady. This is Brook Pelton, a new seventh year who will be staying here this summer in preparation for the coming year.”

“Pleased to meet you, Fat Lady,” said Brook.

“I prefer ‘Gravitationally Challenged’ if you must know” the painting grumbled.

McGonagall frowned a little. “She will only allow you into the Gryffindor common room if you know the password. Right now the password is ‘Blatherskite.’ ”

When she said this, the painting moved aside, revealing an entrance into a large room, furnished with many tables and chairs for studying, comfy arm chairs, sofas, and a large fireplace. Everything was decorated in a gold and red motif. “This is the common room, where you can study and spend free time with other students. Over here is the stairway to the boy’s dormitories. The seventh years’ room is the one at the top of the stairs. Your belongings should already be there waiting for you. While you are unpacking, we can talk more about your parents.”

Brook walked up the stairs to his new dormitory. As he opened the door at the top of the stairs, he saw a room with five four-poster beds, complete with thick red curtains around each bed. Next to each bed was a bedside table. At the end of one of the beds was his luggage, as Professor McGonagall promised. I guess this must be my bed. As he opened his suitcase, Professor McGonagall waved her wand and sat down in an ornate wooden chair that he hadn’t noticed when he walked in. “Before I tell you about your parents, I want to discuss your secret. While only faculty is here during the summer, it is still important to keep your disguise on while you are here. The fewer people that know your secret, the better. Also remember that there are other eyes in the castle. For instance, if one of the portraits were to see your real face, they could spread the news throughout the castle in just a few minutes. Just be careful and only take off your ring if absolutely necessary. And be careful with what you say in the hallways, because those same portraits have very good ears. That is why I didn’t want to say too much while we were walking. Also, at dinner I am sure the other faculty will want to get to know you, as students are a rarity in the summers. Just answer their questions as you would as Brook Pelton and avoid any answers that might reveal your true nature. Professor Dumbledore and I will help if you look like you need it.” Brook nodded that he understood. “So, what would you like to know?”

“Well, I guess to start, the Sorting Hat asked me if my parents were in Gryffindor. And what were they like?”

“Yes, both James and Lily were in Gryffindor, and I was their head of house just like I am yours. James, as you have probably heard, looked quite a bit like you, including the glasses and messy hair. He was very talented, but a little cocky, especially when he was younger, and tended to skate by on the least effort possible. But by the time he graduated, he had become a very powerful wizard with his head and heart in the right place. His best subject was Transfiguration, which is what I taught, so I had a soft spot for him, though I never let him know that. He also got into his fair share of trouble; he loved a good prank. I always felt like he and his friends kept me on my toes.

“Lily was a jewel of a student. Even though she was Muggleborn, or maybe because of it, she was the brightest and hardest working student in her class, excelling especially in Potions and Charms, but almost always had one of the top marks in any subject she took. She was also very kindhearted, helping her fellow students and serving as a mentor to the younger students. But she could have a temper, which your father seemed to be an expert at bringing out,” she said with a chuckle. “I still recall some of their spectacular rows that could be heard echoing through the halls. I’m not sure what turned it around, but by the time they left Hogwarts, their relationship had changed, and I don’t know that I have ever seen a couple more in love. I didn’t see them much after they left school, but I do remember noticing how happy they were at a certain little tyke’s first birthday party. You were their entire universe, Harry, and they would have sacrificed anything for you. And, I guess, they did exactly that.” She suddenly got up from her chair, wiped at her eyes and said, “My, my, where has the time gone? It is time for dinner, and I have kept you from that much needed nap. Sorry about that, Pelton.”

“That’s alright, Professor. Thank you for sharing about my parents. It means a lot to me to get to know them, even just a little.”

Professor McGonagall led him through another seeming maze of hallways to a huge room that was mostly empty. The tall walls on each side led up to what Brook originally thought was open air, as it revealed a blue sky with some wispy clouds. But as he looked closer he saw that it was actually a ceiling that must have been enchanted. On one end of the room was a stage with a long table that overlooked the rest of the room, but that table was empty. In the center of the otherwise empty room was a circular table with twelve chairs around it. Brook noticed candles above the table lighting the dining area, but when he looked closely, there was nothing supporting the candles as they seemed to be just floating in the air. Seated at the table were several adults of varying ages and sizes, all wearing robes and a few with conical hats. Brook felt a little underdressed in his polo shirt and jeans. Professor McGonagall noticed him looking down at his clothes and whispered, “Don’t worry about your clothes, Mr. Pelton. We are allowed to dress casually over the summer, but old habits die hard and most wizards and witches prefer to wear robes.” As they reached the table, Professor McGonagall introduced Brook to Professors Sprout, Sinistra, Babbling, Flitwick, and Burbage. Just as they were sitting down, Dumbledore strolled in, sat down, greeted everyone, and said, “Tuck in!”

Brook was a little confused as the only items on the table were plates and silverware, but then, magically, of course, several platters and bowls of food just appeared in the center of the table. The professors reached for whatever was nearest, took some, and started passing things around. Brook was amazed at the amount and variety of the food, and, being a typical teenaged boy, took full advantage of the feast. The professors all seemed very friendly and most of their questions focused on life as a Muggle in America, especially Professor Burbage, who he learned taught Muggle Studies, so Brook didn’t have much difficulty keeping up his part of the conversation. The only challenge was when Professor Flitwick asked how he ended up here at Hogwarts. As Brook fumbled for an answer, Professor Dumbledore spoke up. “You will have to excuse Brook’s hesitance. You see, he just recently lost both of his parents in a car accident. It was only then that it was discovered that he was a wizard and, since his closest relatives are British, it was decided that he come to Hogwarts instead of attending school in the States.” Brook looked down at his plate, trying to stem the tears that were threatening to fall. With all of the excitement of today, I haven't even thought about my parents for the last few hours, he thought. This filled him with tremendous guilt. Professor McGonagall must have detected Brook’s feelings as she reached over, patted him on the back, and then said, “Perhaps Mr. Pelton would like to return to his dormitory; it has been a long day for him and I talked his ears off this afternoon, preventing him from taking a nap. Some sleep is in order, I am sure.”

When they reached the Gryffindor common room, Professor McGonagall indicated that he should sit down on one of the couches. She sat next to him and, after an awkward silence, she said, “I want to reiterate what I said earlier. I am your Head of House and I am here for you if you ever need me. I know I can’t fill the hole from the loss of your parents, but if there is anything I can do, let me know.”

“I think I’ll be alright, Professor. Thank you for your concern and I will take you up on your offer if I need it.”

“See that you do, Pelton,” she said as she stood and headed for the portrait hole. “Good night, Brook.”

“Good night, Professor.” After the painting closed, Brook trudged up to his empty dormitory and fell asleep wondering about how different his life would have been had Voldemort not killed his birth parents.

**********

Brook found himself standing in the middle of a fog bank. The fog was so thick he could hardly see a thing. He didn’t know where he was, but he felt like he was waiting for something and his heart was pounding in his chest. He then heard a pop to his right he turned quickly toward the sound. Out of the fog appeared a woman, with long, straight red hair that shimmered in the moonlight, a disarming smile, and chocolate brown eyes that seemed to see right through him. She walked up to him as he stood just staring at her. She took his hand and he felt a spark of energy pass between them. “Ready? Let’s end this, together!” she said and they started walking into the fog hand in hand. All of his fears and anxiety faded and a strange calmness came over him. As they walked, a dark, foreboding building suddenly appeared out of the fog. The woman looked over at him, grinned, squeezed his hand, and then turned back to the building with a look of determination on her face. As they came to the massive wooden door, it creaked open toward them, revealing nothing but darkness behind it.

Brook blinked and instead of darkness, all he could see was red, and then remembered where he was: in his bed at Hogwarts. It was just a dream, he thought. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that she would follow me here. The dream of a woman screaming in a green light wasn’t the only recurring dream he had. Actually, the second was a series of dreams that he had been having his whole life. He remembered from an early age dreaming of a little red headed girl. His oldest memories of her was when he was three or four years old and in his dreams she would be playing with a doll or watching her mother doing things around the house. His parents thought he had an imaginary friend when he would talk about her, until he was old enough to explain that he was actually dreaming about her. As he grew older, so did she, as she was always about the same age as he was. He remembered watching her do chores, reading, or swimming in a pond. Sometimes he would see things that could only happen in dreams, like her house which looked like it might have been painted by Salvador Dali, or pots and pans flying around a kitchen, or the girl picking up what looked like Mr. Potatohead and then throwing it over a fence. He never wanted the dreams to end because he always felt pleasure just watching her. The next day after one of these dreams was always a good day as the sense of calm he felt upon waking continued through that day. Normally, he was not a morning person, but his mom could always tell when he had one of these dreams because he bounded down the stairs with a huge smile on his face. On these mornings she would tease him, calling him “Charlie Brown” because of the comic strip character’s unrequited love interest. Other times, she would rib him that he was dreaming about the girl he would marry, like she had on the night of the prom, and, even in the years that girls had “cooties”, that idea never bothered him.

The only change in these dreams was when he was about twelve. For about six months, his dreams of her were more like nightmares as he would feel her anxiety and fear, but he always awoke before he could see what she was so afraid of. He slept very poorly for that period of time, and it affected his attitude as he was always seemed to be grouchy; his grades even slipped. His parents had discussed having him see a therapist, but one day, the normal pleasant dreams returned.

Over the last few years the little girl had grown into a beautiful young woman. He would see her sitting in classes or roaming around the hallways of an old building which reminded him of a museum with paintings and tapestries on the walls and suits of armor. He thought it was odd that she was typically dressed in what looked like long black dresses during the school year, but he figured it must be some type of school uniform. And this past summer some of the dreams seemed to be typical adolescent fantasies as he would see her in a very revealing bikini while lying by the pond she had frequented when he was younger. Over the last few years, it seemed she would appear in his dreams whenever he was struggling with something and, the next day, his problems didn’t seem to matter. He had often thought it strange that he would have two recurring dreams with such different results on his mood.

So, it was with this good mood that he hopped out of his bed and prepared for his day. After several wrong turns, he found his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Just a few of the faculty were there this morning, as most chose either to sleep in or get to work early on their own projects. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Sprout were there, but the rest of the faculty were elsewhere. Professor McGonagall invited him to sit next to her and asked how he slept in his new dorm.

“I slept wonderfully, Professor. The beds here are the most comfortable I’ve ever slept in.”

“Glad to hear that, Pelton.”

“Professor, I do have a question for you. When I was unpacking last evening, I was looking for electrical outlets to plug in my clock radio and a reading lamp, but I couldn’t find any. Where are they?”

“Well, Brook, the reason you didn’t find any outlets is that there aren’t any. You see, we don’t use electricity here at Hogwarts. But we don’t miss it, as we use magic to make up for it. For instance, we can use a simple spell that causes a light to come out of wands instead of a reading lamp.”

"Oh, okay." I guess I should have paid closer attention to the packing list that the Headmaster gave me. I did notice that there were no electronics on it, but I figured that it was just an oversight, since the list didn't include much in the way of personal items.

Brook, as he continued to eat, started to get a little concerned. He had come down early today because he was supposed to meet the Magical Creatures professor who was to take him shopping for supplies he would need for the summer. As he ate and there was no sign of the professor, he wondered if he was being stood up. He was anxious to get his wand and books so he could get started learning magic and was concerned that everything was going to be delayed. He then heard loud footsteps approaching from outside the Great Hall and the doors opened, revealing a huge bearded man striding forcefully into the room. He was at least 10 feet tall and almost as wide and was wearing a large fur coat with many pockets, despite it being a warm summer day. “Mornin’ everyone! The Headmaster asked me ter escort a student named Brook ter Diagon Alley fer some shopping today, and I am guessin’ that would be yeh,” he said holding his hand, the size of a ham, out to Brook. “I’m Rubeus Hagrid, but everyone just calls me Hagrid. Pleased to meetcha.” Brook felt like his whole body was being shaken by the huge man, making him a little dizzy.

“I am pleased to meet you as well, Professor Hagrid,” wresting his hand away from Hagrid.

“None o’ this ‘Perfesser’ stuff, just Hagrid. Finished with breakfast? Shall we go then?”

“Sure.”

“Follow me then.” Hagrid led him out the doors of the castle to a hut near the edge of a forest. As they approached, Brook heard the barking of what sounded like a very large dog from the inside of the hut. “This is where I live. It’s humble, but it’s mine. Don’ let Fang worry yeh; he’s jus’ a big softie.” The moment Hagrid opened the door, an enormous black hound leaped on Brook, pinning him to the ground and then proceeded to try to lick Brook’s face off. “Gerroff him, Fang,” bellowed Hagrid, pulling him by the collar off of Brook. “Sorry ‘bout that. Fang loves making new friends.” Hagrid handed him a towel to dry off with and then stepped up to the fireplace. “We’ll be going by Floo; there’s the powder,” pointing to a flowerpot on the mantle. “Yeh go on ahead first and I’ll be right behind yeh.”

Brook had no idea what Hagrid expected him to do. “Excuse me, sir, but I was raised as a Muggle, so I don’t know what the ‘Floo’ is.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. I forgot you are new to the magical world. To travel by the Floo network, you take some Floo powder, throw it in the fire, and then yell out where yeh want to go, in this case, Diagon Alley, and then jump in the flames. It’ll take yeh right there.”

“You want me to jump into the fire?”

“Yeah, how else are yeh gonna get into the Floo network?”

“Okay,” Brook replied nervously. “So I take some powder. How much do I need?”

“Jus’ a pinch will do.”

Brook took a pinch of the powder, threw it into the flames, which then turned an odd green color. Brook was reminded of those fake logs you can buy that burned different colors. He said, “Diagon Alley,” and jumped into the fire. He felt a twisting and flipping sensation as he saw quick glimpses of places until after a few seconds he found himself thrown out onto the floor of a different room with a stone floor. It’s going to take some time to get used to these different transportation methods, he thought. That’s twice in two days I’ve ended up on the floor. He picked himself up, brushed off the soot that he had accumulated, and then found that he was being pushed down again as Hagrid came through the Floo, hitting him to the ground again. “Yeh’ll have ta’ learn to move outta the way a little quicker, yeh will, Brook,” said Hagrid.

Brook looked around the room and found he was in a dark, old fashioned looking pub. It reminded him of something he might see in a Victorian era movie. “Hey, Hagrid! The usual?” the barkeep said from behind them.

“Can't, Tom. I'm on Hogwarts business," he replied patting Brook on the shoulder. "This be Brook Pelton, a transfer student to Hogwarts. Perfesser Dumbledore asked me to take him shopping fer school supplies.”

Hagrid led Brook to a back room of the pub. At a brick wall, he stopped, and tapped on a brick with his umbrella three times (which he was carrying despite the blue skies), and to Brook’s surprise, the bricks separated, revealing a city street crowded with people. The street reminded him a little of a living history museum, like Williamsburg, with shops on either side of the street and people walking to and fro, all wearing robes similar to those he saw the professors wearing last night at dinner and some wearing conical hats. Brook walked behind Hagrid, turning his head and taking in the sights. “First stop, Gringotts Bank to get yeh some money.”

“Oh, I already have money. Before I left from home I had some dollars converted to pounds so I could buy things here.”

“Pounds won’t work here. You’ll be needin’ Galleons instead. Gringotts can convert yer pounds to galleons if yeh want, but I was told to take yeh to yer vault so yeh could make a withdrawal.”

“I have money in a wizarding bank?”

“Yeh, Dumbledore told me that yeh have a vault, but that yeh would have to access it yerself. For some reason I am supposed ta wait in the lobby for yeh.”

As they reached the end of the street there was a large white building that towered over the rest of the shops. They went through large bronze doors and then a set of silver doors before entering a lobby with a marble floor. Across the floor was a long row of counters with small creatures that had bald heads except for hair just above their ears, prominent foreheads, large pointed ears and hooked noses. “What are those?” Brook whispered to Hagrid.

“Those are goblins, quite clever creatures. They’re in charge of Gringotts.”

Brook hesitated, but Hagrid said, “Go ahead. Oh, wait; you’ll be needin’ your key.” He checked a few different pockets in his coat before finding the right one, pulling out a small gold key. “Vault 687, remember.” Then, he nudged Brook to move toward the counter.

Brook walked over the counter, found a goblin that was not busy and cleared his throat to get his attention.

“What can I do for you?” asked the goblin.

“I am supposed to access my vault to make a withdrawal.”

“Which vault?”

“Vault 687, sir.”

The goblins eyes widened. “Oh, we were told to expect you. Please come back to the Head Goblin’s office.” The goblin got off his stool, walked around the end of the counter and waved his hand for Brook to follow him. He was led to an office with two chairs and an ornately carved desk that would be perfectly suited for an old castle or English manor, except that it was about half the size of a normal desk. Brook sat down as instructed by the goblin and the door closed as it left. After a few minutes, another door behind the desk opened and another goblin entered, this one much more wrinkled and the little hair he had was snow white.

“Welcome, Mr. Potter, to Gringotts.” Brook startled a little when his real name was mentioned. “Don’t worry, Dumbledore told us of your true identity and that you would be coming today. Your secret is safe with us. Goblins can be trusted with any secret; if we couldn’t then our whole business would crumble. Anyway, you will be taken shortly to your trust vault, which your parents established for your use until you reach the age of adulthood at 17. At that time you will be able to access your family vault. The trust vault has plenty of money for you, since it was originally established to provide for you for seventeen years, and you just have a few weeks until your seventeenth birthday.”

“But I am already seventeen.”

The goblin looked down at a parchment on his desk and after scanning for some information, looked back up. “Not according to our records. You will reach the age of maturity July 31st.”

Oh, that’s right. My parents just picked the date of April 20th as my birthday because it was their wedding anniversary, Brook thought. They never knew my real birthday.

“Ok. How do I get to my vault?”

“Griphook will take you,” pointing to the door, where another goblin had seemed to appear out of thin air. “I hope we will be able to serve you and your family well for many years.”

The goblin by the door waved his hand, saying, “Follow me.”

Brook followed him down a corridor until they came to what looked like a railroad track with small carts, like in a coal mine. Griphook got into a cart and waited for Brook to get in as well. The car then started to move on the track. It picked up speed and then dove down hills, sped around turns, winding through many different tunnels. The ride down to Brook’s vault reminded him of the Mine Ride rollercoaster that he rode many times at the amusement park near their home. As the cart came to a sudden stop, Griphook and Brook got out, Brook with a huge smile on his face. That was fun! A lot better than portkeys or the Floo. I may have to make some more withdrawals in the future, he thought.

Griphook led him over to a large door with the number 687 next to it. “Key, please,” he demanded. Brook gave him the key and Griphook opened the vault, revealing a room filled with piles and piles of gold and silver coins. And this is just my trust; imagine what the family vault must look like, thought Brook. “How much should I take out?” he asked the goblin.

“Most students take out a few handfuls to get them through the school year,” he replied.

So Brook grabbed a few handfuls, put them in a sack that Hagrid had given him, and got back in the cart for another wild ride back to the entrance. After arriving back in the lobby, he found Hagrid and asked, “Where to next?”

“We should be goin’ ta Flourish and Blotts, the bookseller first. This list the Headmaster gave me is pretty long. Basically he wants yeh to get every year’s book fer charms, transfiguration, and defence, so that’s quite a lot.”

After finding all of the books on the list, Brook wondered how they were going to do any more shopping as there were over 20 books and took both of them to carry them all. But Hagrid had a plan for this and he had the clerk shrink them down so that they could all easily fit in one of Hagrid’s pockets.

“Next is Madam Malkin’s fer some robes.” At Madam Malkin’s, Brook went in by himself as Hagrid was too big to get through the doorway. Brook was measured for his robes, and he was amazed at how the salesperson just told the tape measure what to measure. When he was asked what house he was in, he responded Gryffindor, and the salesperson tapped the robes with her wand and the trim instantly changed from plain black to red and gold and a patch with a lion appeared on the left chest. The saleswitch asked if there was anything else he was interested in, showing him the Gryffindor section and he picked out several red and gold ties and a few sweaters and cardigans with the same lion patch. He had been warned that the castle could be drafty in the winter. He had been informed by Dumbledore about the school uniform before leaving home, so he already had plenty of Oxford shirts and dress slacks. After paying for his clothes, the saleswitch shrunk these purchases as well for easy carrying.

As they walked down the street, Brook noticed a crowd of young children gathered in front of a store named Quality Quidditch Supplies. Brook looked in the window to see what they were so excited about, seeing in the window some colored robes with numbers and names on the back, some odd shaped balls in an open suitcase, and several brooms.

“It’s the brand new Firebolt 2C! It’s supposed to be even faster than the original Firebolt, and puts those Nimbuses to shame,” he heard one boy say. “The '2C' supposedly stands for its top speed of 200 miles per hour!”

“Yeah, but it’s supposed to be really hard to control, though. Only professional Quidditch players are able to handle all that speed,” another boy said.

Brook asked, “Hagrid, what is Quidditch?”

“Why, it’s only the best wizarding game there is. See, yeh’ve got a team o’ Chasers that try to put the Quaffle in the hoops, while Keepers protect the hoops an’ beaters hit Bludgers at the Chasers and Keepers. And o’ course, then there is the Seeker who catches the golden snitch and ends the game, usually winning it fer his team.”

Brook was a little confused but decided that maybe it was like hockey or maybe lacrosse. “Why the brooms? Are they used to hit the balls?”

“Oh, no! The brooms are fer flying!”

“You mean that witches really do fly on broomsticks?”

“And wizards too. How else are yeh supposed ta fly since flying carpets are banned? Yeh’ll see. Each of the houses at Hogwarts has a Quidditch team and the games are attended by almost all o’ the students. Gryffindor hasn’t won the Quidditch Cup for quite a few years, but I heard that they think they have a chance this year, if they can just find a Seeker.”

Walking on, they came upon Eeylops Owl Emporium and Hagrid suggested they go inside. “Every boy should have his own owl. That way yeh can send and receive letters.”

Brook wasn’t sure why he needed an owl; it wasn’t as if he knew anyone in the wizarding world, but to humor Hagrid, he agreed to enter. As they were looking around at the wide selection of different owls, the shopkeeper yelled, “Watch out! That owl got out of its cage somehow and is dangerous!” He was pointing at a beautiful snow white owl that was flying around near the ceiling, circling the shop. All of a sudden, it began to dive right toward Brook. Brook was ducking to avoid it when it opened up its wings and landed gracefully on his shoulder. It then started to nibble gently on Brook’s ear.

“Stop that,” Brook giggled. “That tickles!”

“Well, I’ll be,” said the shopkeeper. “I’ve had that owl for over seven years and she bites and claws at every person who took her out of her cage. I’ve never seen her react to anyone like that before. It looks like she has picked you. Interested in her?”

“I don’t know; I don’t have much need for an owl,” Brook said. “Ow!” The owl had just bit his ear and, if an owl could glare, this one certainly was. “Maybe I should buy her. If I don’t I might not make it out of the store!” With that she started nibbling and nudging Brook’s hair again.

“That confirms it Brook, yeh’ve been chosen by this owl. She’s a beaut, she is. Not many snowy owls this far south. They tend to stay in Scandinavia,” said Hagrid.

“I’ll take her,” said Brook to the shopkeeper.

A few minutes later Brook and Hagrid left the owl emporium with an owl, a cage, and food and treats. “One last stop, to get yer wand,” said Hagrid. "The only place to get that is at Ollivanders.”

Brook saw a sign ahead with peeling gold letters, “Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.” Brook started to ask Hagrid if that date was true when Hagrid said, “I’ve got summat else to do so I’ll let yeh get yer wand and I’ll meet yeh at Fortescue’s Ice Cream across the way when yer done.”

Brook walked into the dark shop that had shelves everywhere you looked filled with small boxes. He looked around a little, but wondered if the shop was open as he couldn’t see anyone working.

“Hello. Is anyone here?” called Brook. He heard a shuffling noise from above and then footsteps coming down the stairs.

“I am Mr. Ollivander. May I help you?” said a man who looked old enough that Brook started to believe the shop had been open for over two millennia.

“Hi, I am Brook Pelton and I need to purchase a wand.”

“I don’t remember you being in here before and I remember all of the wands I sell. From where did you get your previous wand? Perhaps Proctor’s Wands in Salem, as I recognize an American accent?”

“No, I have just learned I am a wizard and have never had a wand before.”

“Oh, that is unusual, but no bother; we will find the correct wand for you. The wand chooses the wizard, as they say. Let’s see, how about one of these?” as he pulled out several boxes, seemingly at random from the shelves behind him.

Brook remained motionless, not sure what he was expected to do. “Don’t just stand there; pick one up and give it a try,” said the old man tersely.

Brook picked up wand after wand and had similar results to when he tried with Dumbledore; some caused boxes to fly off the shelves, some did absolutely nothing, and one even caused an explosion that destroyed part of the counter. “Dear me, dear me, I never have this much trouble. I sense that there is something wrong about this whole exercise. I don’t understand why I cannot match you with the right wand.” Then, the look on his face changed from confusion to irritation. “Wait. Are you using Polyjuice or some other concealment spell just to purchase a second wand so that you can’t be traced? That is against the law and I must ask you to leave immediately! I should have known from you cockamamie story that you are nearly an adult and have never had a wand before. Leave before I call the Aurors!”

Brook wasn’t sure what to do; McGonagall had told him to never reveal his true identity to anyone, but it seemed that the charm that Dumbledore had placed on his ring was preventing Mr. Ollivander from doing his job. A little desperate, Brook said, “Before you call the Aurors (whoever they may be, he thought), do you have any way I can contact Headmaster Dumbledore. I need to ask him a question. Where can I find your telephone?”

“Telephone? What is that? Anyway, why should I let someone who is breaking the law contact Dumbledore? Get out; I am going to Floo the Aurors!”

“Wait, please! Can you use the Floo to contact the headmaster? If you ask him, he can verify my story. Please, I am not trying to cause problems.”

“Alright. I guess I can do that. But if he doesn’t vouch for you I am Flooing the Aurors immediately!” The old man walked over to the fireplace, threw a pinch of powder into the flame, turning it green. He then said, “Hogwarts Headmasters Office,” and got down on all fours and put his head into the fire. This is going to take some getting used to, thought Brook. After a few minutes, in which Mr. Ollivander seemed to be annoyed based on his body language as he held the conversation, he stood up, moved back from the fire, and suddenly Dumbledore appeared out of the fireplace.

“Is there somewhere the boy and I can go to have a private conversation?” Dumbledore asked Ollivander.

“I will just go upstairs into my office and you can talk down here.” The old man then slowly crept up the stairs, though obviously still put out by the situation.

“So what’s the problem?” the headmaster asked Brook.

“It seems that the charm you placed on my ring that conceals my appearance is also making it impossible for Mr. Ollivander to find the right wand for me.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. Ollivander can be trusted, if I ask him to promise to tell no one.” Dumbledore aimed his wand up at the door that Ollivander had disappeared behind at the top of the steps and it opened, revealing Mr. Ollivander crouching at the keyhole, obviously spying on the conversation Brook and Dumbledore were having. “Come on down, Mr. Ollivander,” said Dumbledore, with a little smirk on his face at catching the wand maker in a little mischief.

“Mr. Ollivander, I must apologize for the charm I have placed on Brook here. It is vital that we keep Brook’s true identity a secret, as I am sure you will understand when it is removed. I was not aware that my charm would affect your process.”

“You know that I am nothing if not discreet, Headmaster, but I doubt that all this subterfuge is necessary,” replied Ollivander.

“I think you will understand my precautions in a moment. Ok, Brook, take off your ring.”

Brook complied and watched Ollivander’s face as it changed from annoyance at the situation to surprise. “James Potter! It can’t be; you’re dead!”

“Look again, Garrick,” said Dumbledore.

As the wand maker stared at Brook, they could almost see the light bulb go off in his brain. “No, you are too young to be James. . . . Hmm . . . It can’t be! Are you Harry? Harry Potter? But you're supposed to be dead as well.”

“Yes, Garrick, this is indeed Harry Potter. Now do you understand why all the secrecy?”

“Of course, of course. I apologize for becoming angry at you Mr. Potter. Now that I can see the real you, I think I know just the wand. I’ve been keeping this one for a special occasion.” He climbed up on a stool and reached as high as he could, pulling down a dusty box. “Eleven inches, made of holly with a phoenix feather core. Try it.”

Brook picked it up and it instantly felt warm in his hand. He lifted it over his head and swished, resulting in a shower of red and gold sparks.

"Yes, indeed that is the one! I had wondered if this wand would ever pick anyone, based on its brother wand, but it is appropriate that you are the one.”

“Why?” asked Brook.

“The brother to your wand, yew, thirteen and a half inches, and a phoenix feather core given by the same bird as the one in your wand. Well, it was the wand that must have made you disappear all those years ago.”

“You mean it was Voldemort’s wand?” asked Brook.

“Yes, one and the same. It seems that we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things–terrible, yes, but great.”

Brook and Dumbledore left the shop after paying, but Brook couldn’t seem to shake the cold feeling down his spine. They met Hagrid at Fortescue’s, but Brook didn’t feel much like ice cream after the encounter in the wand shop, so they went back to Hogwarts, having finished their shopping.

**********

Later that evening, Brook went back to his dorm and retrieved his portable CD player from his bedside table and decided to listen to a little music. He turned it on, but didn’t hear anything, so he adjusted the volume, but this had no effect. He then checked to make sure the earphones were plugged in properly, which they were. He looked at the player a little closer and realized that the CD wasn’t even spinning. The batteries must be dead, he thought. He went into his trunk and got some fresh batteries, but this didn’t help either. Maybe it was broken on the flight.

Brook decided to sit on the window seat in his dorm room, reading through a copy of A History of Magic that he had found in the Gryffindor common room, looking for an appropriate name for his new owl. He thought it would make sense to name her something Scandinavian, since that was where most Snowy owls lived. So, he was searching through the section on magic in Northern Europe However, the owl in question didn’t seem to like any of them, and would pull Brook’s hair at the mention of each one. She had already rejected Hulda, Sif, Freyja, and Sybil. “How about Katla? Spakona? Skogsra? I don’t blame you on that one. Velda? Hedwig?” At the last name, instead of pulling his hair, she nipped him gently on the ear affectionately. “So, Hedwig is it, huh? Okay, from now on, you will be Hedwig.”

Back to index


Chapter 7: Summer at Hogwarts

Summer at Hogwarts

July 25, 1997

Dear Aaron,

I promised I would write after I got here and started classes, so here it is. The flight here was unremarkable. I was met at the airport by one of the professors and when we arrived at the school, I was awestruck. The building is actually a medieval castle, just like in Monty Python. Stone everywhere, with the hallways filled with suits of armor, tapestries, and paintings, large wooden doors that creak when you open them, and huge rooms with cathedral ceilings. No moat or drawbridge, but just about everything else.

It is a little weird being here as the only student. There are normally several hundred students here during the school year, so it is really quiet and empty, and the fact that it is an ancient castle only makes that worse. The faculty members whom I have met are nice and have tried to welcome me, but most of them are old enough to be my grandparents, or even great-grandparents, so I am missing being with people of my own age. I still have over a month before any other students arrive; hopefully the time will fly by.

Dumbledore had arranged a Muggle address so that mail from his friends and contacts could be sent to it and then the mail was transferred to the Wizarding Owl system. This way he could get mail from back home, either letters from friends, or papers to sign for his dad’s (actually now his) company. Brook had struggled with how to write to Aaron as he had promised. Of course, he wanted to keep in touch with his best friend and share his experiences, but how to do so without revealing that Hogwarts was not just a normal British boarding school was the challenge. He didn’t want to lie, but he couldn’t exactly tell the truth either. He finally decided to write as much truth as he could, changing the magical portions to something that would correspond to the Muggle world, and using code words that Aaron would not be suspicious of. To help explain why he had to go to school so much earlier than was originally planned, Dumbledore and he had come up with a cover story that he was attending a different school than the one his father had found. Dumbledore introduced himself as a distant relative from Scotland (which was probably true since most Magical folk are probably related in some way). He recommended that Brook go to Hogwarts, which was a school specializing in science and taught courses that would be ordinarily be sophomore or junior college level courses in America. So, he needed some tutoring to be able to keep up. While some of his friends had questioned this, most of them knew how much he wanted to be an aeronautical engineer and accepted that he would want to challenge himself as much as possible. Mrs. Roberts also thought that getting out of his house would be helpful, as Brook had confessed to her that he had a hard time being there without crying.

The summer tutoring has been going well. The faculty thinks that I am catching on to things quickly and that I should be able to handle the course work once school starts next month. Applied Organic Chemistry (Potions) is easier than I thought, as most of it is just following directions closely and observing what happens. The professor of that course is okay, but he’s a name dropper, trying to impress me by telling me about all these famous people he taught and knows. He doesn’t seem to realize that I haven’t heard of a single one of them. I am really enjoying Physics of Matter Transformation (Transfiguration); that professor has taken me under her wing and is very patient. The concepts are truly fascinating but it is the most challenging of all my courses. Energy Transfer and Thermodynamics (Charms) is also interesting. The professor is actually an achondroplastic dwarf who has to compensate for his lack of height by perching on top of a platform. He gets so excited when I get something right that he sometimes falls off of his perch. It really is hard not to laugh. I didn’t realize that I would need tutoring for phys ed also, but what they teach is basically a Self-Defense class (Defence Against the Dark Arts), with a mix of fencing and martial arts, so I’ve been working on that as well. The only course that I am not enjoying is British History (History of Magic), but they really felt I needed to know something other than things like the US beat them in the Revolutionary War and we bailed them out of the two World Wars. Professor Binns is tremendously boring and is so old, I wonder if he might actually be dead and not know it.

It’s not all studying and classes though. One of the professors is also a flight instructor and she has let me fly her training plane a couple times during the week and on weekends. I think I’ve scared her a little with some of my daredevil tactics, but I have to keep my skills up, don’t I?

As Brook wrote this, he remembered the true story of that day. One afternoon, after an exceptionally difficult morning, Professor McGonagall had given him the afternoon off, and he was spending his free time enjoying the sun by the lake. The giant squid was frolicking in the sun as well. It was a little disconcerting at first, since the only giant squid he had ever heard of had tried to destroy the Nautilus in “Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea,” but eventually it was entertaining Brook with its tentacles flopping around. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something dart by in the sky. As he turned his head, he spotted a witch in black robes flying around what he had learned was the Quidditch pitch. He walked over, watching in awe as she soared and zoomed through the air, zigging in and out of the rings. The witch saw him and flew over to Brook and as she approached he recognized her as Madam Hooch. She landed and alit off her broom and greeted Brook.

“Wow, that looks like a lot of fun! I’ve never seen anyone flying on a broomstick before. I have a pilot’s license for airplanes; does it take as much training to learn to fly a broom?” asked Brook.

“Well, I don’t know about flying an airplane, but flying a broom is pretty easy; it is part of our first year curriculum. Want to give it a try?”

“I’d love to! How do we start?”

“First, let me get you one of the school brooms. Accio broom!” she called and a broom flew from the open shed at the end of the pitch. She caught it and then laid it on the ground. “Hold your hand over the broom and say ‘Up!’” Brook complied and the broom jumped into his hand immediately.

“Next, mount your broom like this,” as she demonstrated by getting on her own broom. After he had got on his broom, she instructed, “Now, kick off the ground gently and try to hover just off the ground.”

Brook pushed off and hovered next to Madam Hooch. It felt funny just floating there with only the support of the broom, but he found that he liked it. She then gave him more flying instructions. “To go higher you pull back on the broomstick, to go lower you point it down. To turn you just lean to one side or the other. To go faster you lean over the front of the broomstick. That’s pretty much all there is to it. Give it a try.”

Brook gently pulled back on the broomstick and it shot upward, accelerating fast enough that he was glad he had a good grip on it. He then experimented a little with turning and diving. It was sort of a combination of flying a plane and riding his motorcycle. As he grew more comfortable, he decided to go a little faster, but when he leaned down over the broomstick, it almost instantly doubled his speed. He then started to have more fun with some rolls, loops, and other tricks he would do in his aerobatic plane as well as weaving in and out of the Quidditch rings. As he whizzed around the pitch, he was smiling from ear to ear and was laughing out loud, letting out cries of joy He found that he loved the sensation of flying on a broom; it combined the wind in your face and hair of driving his Mustang and the maneuverability of flying in a trick plane. Flying on a broom was much more intuitive than in a plane and he took to it immediately. He noticed Madam Hooch flying with him, but soon he was flying circles around her. “You are a natural!” she shouted as he flew past, obviously enjoying watching the delight he showed on his face. He then decided to try a dive like he did in his plane, pointing the broomstick almost straight down and leaning down on it almost flat. He sped toward the ground and as he neared it, he pulled up at the last moment. He would have pulled out of the dive had the toe of his right shoe not caught the turf, causing him to crash spectacularly, rolling over and over on the grass until coming to a stop flat on his back. He lay there for a few seconds, taking inventory for any missing limbs or pain, but other than a little soreness on his knee, he seemed to have escaped without any significant injuries. When he opened his eyes, he saw both Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall looking over him with concern. He then flashed a huge grin and said, “That was great!” He hopped up quickly and was about to mount the broom again when he felt a restraining hand on his arm.

“Wait, Mr. Pelton. I want you to try something,” said McGonagall, winking at Madam Hooch. She conjured several small spheres, about the size of golf balls, and then swished her wand, sending them off into the air, each in a different direction. “Let’s see how many of those you can catch before they land.”

Okay, thought Brook. That's an odd request. Shrugging, he took off, going after the ones that were lowest first. As soon as he caught one, he would quickly sight the next one and speed toward it, zigging and zagging all over the pitch. He was able to catch five of the seven she propelled, not getting the last two that had been sent off in a totally different direction from the rest.

When he got back, a little disappointed he couldn’t get them all, he gave them to Professor McGonagall, who had a huge smirk on her face. “Well, Rolanda, it looks like Gryffindor may finally have a Seeker!” she said to her colleague. “We will have to inform Mr. Weasley in the fall. Maybe we can finally win the Cup again!”

I’ll write again in a few weeks. I hope two-a-days for football go well; I know that is one thing about home that I am not going to miss. Don’t forget your best friend across the pond. I’d love to hear news from home.

Brook

**********

One morning, about a week after he sent Aaron’s letter, he awoke to find a package at the foot of his bed. Confused, he looked at it for a moment, seeing that it was irregularly shaped, like when clothes are wrapped without a box. He pulled at the wrapping paper and pulled out a light weight fabric with an iridescent look to it. Why would someone give me a cloak? Puzzled, he saw a note, written in precise letters, “Your father lent this to me shortly before he died and I think it is time it is returned to its rightful owner. Use it well. Happy Birthday!” It bore no signature, so he had no idea who had given it to him. The birthday statement bewildered him; his birthday was in April. But then he remembered what the goblin had said about his birthday being July 31st. How weird to think I have had even my birthdate wrong all these years. He still had no idea what the gift was until he laid it over his legs and saw that they were no longer there. He stood up, wrapped the fabric around him, and looked in the mirror, and had the eerie view of his disembodied head floating in the air. If he covered up his head as well, he was completely invisible. I wonder who sent me this. Regardless, I think this might come in handy for some sneaking around, he thought, with a mischievous grin.

**********

“No! Not him! Kill me but don’t hurt him!” the woman screamed. His view was blocked by her back so he couldn’t see who she was yelling at. Then, he heard a spell being cast that he couldn’t quite discern, followed by a green light that bathed the entire room in a weird glow. The woman then fell, revealing a man in a dark cloak, but it was too dark to make out his face. He pointed his wand and repeated the same curse, again bathing the room in green light.

Brook sat upright in bed with a scream. His heart was racing as if he had just finished running a few miles and he was bathed in sweat. This was the first time he had the nightmare since arriving at Hogwarts, but this time was different. It had never been so vivid and he was able to remember all of the details much clearer than ever before. He still wasn’t sure why it scared him so much, but he knew he wasn’t going to be sleeping any more that night. The last time he had the dream he had gone flying in the stunt plane to help him forget, but he couldn’t do that this time. Wait, perhaps I can go flying! Maybe it’s time to put my birthday present to good use, he thought. He grabbed the cloak and put it over his head, checking in the mirror to make sure he was indeed invisible. He then walked down to the common room, out the portrait, down the corridors to main entrance, and then out to the Quidditch shed. Madam Hooch had taught him how to get into the shed, enabling him to go flying when he wanted. I don’t think she had moonlit broom rides in mind, though, he thought. He grabbed a broomstick and went flying, calming his nerves, and soon forgetting all about his nightmares.

It was a beautiful night for flying; the sky was filled with stars and the full moon gave the Quidditch pitch almost as much illumination as an overcast day. While it was ideal for flying, it also made it easy for him to be spotted from the castle if anyone should look. For this reason, he did keep a wary eye out for any movement or light. As he flew around, he was startled when something brushed up against his face. He hovered for a moment while he tried to get his heart to stop racing and looked around to see what it could have been that flew by him. He searched the dark around him, but couldn’t spot anything. Then suddenly, he felt a shift in the balance of the broom and heard a hoot and recognized that his owl had landed on the end of his broom.

“Hedwig! So you are the one that almost scared me to death. Decided to fly with me tonight, huh?” The owl hooted back at him while she dipped her head down in an owlish version of a nod. “Well, then let’s have some fun.” With his statement, Hedwig took off and, for the next thirty minutes, they flew together in an odd sort of aerial dance, swooping in and out of each other’s path. Eventually Brook, who was gasping from the exertion, touched down on the ground and Hedwig landed softly on his shoulder. Brook reached up and scratched Hedwig at the base of her head and she nipped at his ear playfully. “Thanks, Hedwig; that was a lot of fun. Maybe we should do this more often.”

He thought that perhaps he needed to get his own broom so he didn’t have to keep breaking into the shed. Madam Hooch had suggested that he might want to do that as well since the school brooms are old and not nearly as fast as some of the newer ones on the market. Maybe now that I am of age, I can go back and investigate the Potter Family vault, to make sure I can afford one. I’ll have to ask the headmaster when I can go back to Diagon Alley.

**********

A week later, he was at Gingrotts again. If he was amazed at the amount of money in his trust vault, the family vault was even more astounding. He learned that the Potters were one of the oldest and wealthiest families in the wizarding world. Instead of just one room of coins, this one had many different rooms, each with a different type of treasure. There were rooms with money, jewelry, paintings and other artwork, armor and weapons, and antique furniture. I guess buying a broom won’t be a problem, he thought. He planned to return when he had more time and explore the contents more carefully, but he was anxious to get his new broom and return to Hogwarts to try it out. He had been granted the morning off, but he had to return to spell work in the afternoon.

As he left Gringotts, he noticed that Diagon Alley was much more crowded than the last time he was here. Professor McGonagall had mentioned that the Hogwarts letters had been sent recently, so there were lots of families milling around with lists of supplies they would need for the coming year. Fortunately, his target of Quality Quidditch Supplies should not be busy as brooms were not on the required list for students, though there was an even larger crowd looking in the window than when he was there last month. He slipped through the window shoppers and entered, going over to the wall with the broom display, and was instantly glad that he had asked Madam Hooch for advice on what broom to buy. The wall was filled with choices, including Cleansweeps, Comets, and Nimbuses (or was it Nimbi?), but he spotted the one he wanted: the Firebolt 2C. He had questioned Madam Hooch as to whether he could handle it or not, based on the comments he had overheard on his last trip to Diagon Alley, but she assured him that, although there would probably be an adjustment period, his skills were more than enough to fly a professional broom. A saleswitch came up to him and asked, “In the market for a broom, are you? How can I help you?”

“I am interested in the Firebolt 2C. How much is it?” he asked since the display just said “Price on demand.”

Her eyes opened a little wider. She appeared to be about his age, had long straight black hair, and a pretty smile, and Brook was pretty sure she was flirting with him as she lightly placed her hand on his forearm. “Are you sure you are man enough to handle that stick?” she asked suggestively while raising her eyebrows.

Brook blushed a little. “I am pretty sure I can.”

“Do you play professionally?”

“No, I hope to be on my house team at Hogwarts this year.”

“Really, I just finished at Hogwarts this spring and I don’t recognize you. How could I have missed you, handsome? What house are you in?”

“I am a transfer student from America and just starting at Hogwarts this fall. I’ll be in Gryffindor.”

“What position do you play?”

“Professor McGonagall says I should play Seeker, but I played baseball back home, so I should be able to swing a Beater bat pretty well also.”

“I played Seeker for Ravenclaw the last few years, and Gryffindor really does need a good Seeker. Their Chasers are excellent and could score well, and Weasley’s great as Keeper, but I always caught the Snitch without almost any opposition, so we won. The same was true of the other teams. I think Gryffindor only won once in the last three years, and that time their Chasers scored so many goals, it didn’t matter that the other team caught the Snitch. My name is Cho Chang, by the way.”

“I am Brook Pelton. Pleased to meet you,” shaking her hand, but she held on to it a little longer than necessary as he pulled it back. “Now, about the price of the 2C?”

“Oh, yes. Since it is generally just used by professionals, it is a little pricey. Are you sure you don’t want to look at a Nimbus 2002 or an original Firebolt?”

“No, I am really interested in the 2C. How much is it?”

“Well, Brook, the list price is 1250 galleons, but I might be able to work a deal for you. Perhaps we could talk about it over lunch? I am due for a break in about an hour.” She flashed him a bright smile and gave him a little squeeze on his forearm.

“No I am in a little bit of a rush. 1250 galleons is fine.”

“Good looking and apparently rich, too. Sure I can’t talk you into a drink or ice cream?”

“No thanks, I do really need to get back.”

Sounding a little disappointed and with a trace of a pout on her face, Cho led him over to the counter and went into the backroom to get the broom. When she returned, she asked, “Can I interest you in anything else? Seekers gloves, a practice Snitch, my Floo address?”

“No thanks, just the broom, please,” Brook replied, starting to get a little exasperated with Cho’s advances. While she was very pretty, Brook didn’t feel any attraction to her. It felt too soon after his parent’s death to start dating. “I am pretty busy this summer and I’m sure you know how things are once school starts,” trying to let her down easy. He handed her the galleons and she passed him a long box containing his new broom.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” she said with another smile. “Well, Brook, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“Yes, goodbye then. Nice meeting you, Cho.”

He left the store with his package and paused, enjoying the feeling of the sun on his face and looking forward to a little flying before starting back to work this afternoon. As he turned to walk back to the Leaky Cauldron, he noticed four people coming out of a shop several doors down and across the street called Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, whatever that name means, he thought. From behind he identified the woman in the lead as obviously the mother, a middle aged witch with red hair. Behind her was a couple holding hands, the boy a tall redhead and a much shorter girl with bushy brown hair. But it was the girl that was just letting go of the door and followed after the other three that caught his attention. Brook had a feeling of déjà vu seeing the girl with red hair turn to walk up the street. When he saw her, he thought, Why does she look familiar? Where do I know her from? I don’t know anyone here. Then, she paused, and when she turned in his direction so he could see her face, suddenly it came to him. It's her; the girl from my dreams! He started to run toward her, but, at that instant, a family left Flourish and Blotts and he ran into a young girl carrying a pile of books with a cauldron precariously balanced on top. They both fell to the ground with her books and cauldron flying in every direction. “Sorry, that was my fault. Are you alright?” he asked the girl. He quickly helped her to her feet and picked up all her supplies. When he was assured that she was okay, he looked up the street again and saw the quartet entering the Leaky Cauldron. He began to run again, a little more careful this time, but by the time he arrived at the pub, they were gone. They must have left via the Floo, he thought. Well, it was probably my imagination anyway. How could some girl in my dreams be real? He threw some Floo powder into the fire and returned to the castle. He soon forgot about her as he flew over the pitch in his new broom.

Back to index


Chapter 8: First Encounters

First Encounters

August 29, 1997

Dear Aaron,

Finally, summer tutoring is over and school is ready to start in two days! People my own age for a change! I am enjoying a little break before school starts. The professors are all really happy with my progress; I’ll be able to take all of my classes with the seniors except one. I’ll have to start with the juniors in Physics of Matter Transformation, but I may be able to jump ahead at the end of the term. When school starts they are going to bring in a former professor to help me continue to advance.

It hasn’t been all work; I have been able to fly several times per week and the Self-Defense class has been a good break from all the studying and lecturing. I have also started running in the mornings, but they don’t have a weight room or anything like that here, so I am going to have to get creative if I am going to stay in good shape.

While I am looking forward to meeting the other students, I have a lot of question about school starting. Will I fit in okay? Most of my classmates will have been together for six years, so will they accept a newcomer, and a Yank (I’ve been told that that is what they are likely to call me) at that? What is it going to be like going to a boarding school and not being able to go home every day after classes? Am I really as ready for classes as the professors think I am? I guess there is only one way to find out; wait until September 1st.

I know you would ask about girls, and, no, I haven’t met any yet.

Brook paused as he wrote to reach up and scratch Hedwig. “No girls here, huh Hedwig? Unless I count you.” Since their night flight, Hedwig had accompanied Brook in his dorm room most of the time when he was not in class. She perched herself on his headboard and would nibble at his ear or pull his hair playfully while he was reading in the evenings. She had flown with him a few more times as well. Funny, I never thought that I would become so close to a pet, especially an owl, thought Brook.

Well, I did meet a saleswoman who just graduated from Hogwarts in the spring when I was shopping one day. She was very pretty and she actually asked me out, but I decided that it didn’t make much sense, since I wouldn’t be able to leave school much during the school year. I know, you think that is just an excuse, but it is the truth. Maybe I’ll meet someone on the train.

This brings up an interesting tradition Hogwarts has to start the school year. All the students actually meet in London and then the whole student body rides a train together for several hours to arrive at the school. The headmaster wants me to “experience all that Hogwarts has to offer” so the flight instructor is going to fly me down to London in the morning so I can ride the train with the rest of the students. It’s going to be a long day to essentially end up right back where I started, but Professor Dumbledore assures me it will be the easiest way for me to get to know my classmates before classes start.

Hope the football season starts well. Hope to hear from you soon.

Brook

On September 1st, in actuality, Brook first Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron and then took a cab to King’s Cross station. It felt weird to be back among the Muggles; after just two months he was very much at home with his new world. After he arrived at King’s Cross, he pulled out the directions again and read the next step, “Proceed to Platform 9 ¾ and get on the Hogwarts Express.”

Platform 9 ¾? Is that some strange British custom? he thought. He worked his way through the crowds and found Platform 9 and Platform 10, but no Platform 9 ¾. He asked a train porter about it, but the porter replied, “Are you daft? There is no Platform 9 ¾! Kids these days,” he muttered as he turned away. As Brook was looking around confused, he saw a woman hugging her much taller son, and recognized them as the family from Diagon Alley. Knowing that they must be magical, he snaked through the swarm of travellers toward them. Before he got there, the son pecked his mom on the cheek and then pushed his cart right at a brick wall. Brook braced himself for the expected crash, but instead the redhead just vanished into the wall! When he finally neared the woman, he said, “Excuse me, ma’am, but I am attending Hogwarts for the first time, and was wondering if you could help me figure out how to get on the train.”

“Of course, dear. It’s not often that there are new students your age at Hogwarts. What school did you go to before this? I have a daughter-in-law that went to Beauxbatons. Maybe you knew her?”

“No, actually I just learned I am a wizard and haven’t attended magical school before. My name is Brook Pelton,” holding out his hand.

“Oh, where are my manners, questioning you without introducing myself? I am Molly Weasley and am pleased to meet you. I have two children attending Hogwarts this year; Ron is in the seventh year and Ginny is in the sixth. What year are you going to be in?”

“I have been getting special tutoring over the summer and I am going to try to take mostly seventh year classes, but I will still need a lot of help.”

“Speaking of Ginny, here she is. Ginny, this is Brook Pelton. He is starting at Hogwarts this year and will be in Ron’s year. He needs a little help getting onto the train.”

At that moment a petite redhead appeared from behind her mother. Brook stood there stunned. It was her, the girl from his dreams! She was a like a vision before him, from the long red hair with copper highlights that sparkled in the light to brown eyes the color of dark chocolate to her many freckles to her welcoming smile. He had never met a more beautiful girl, and she was even more attractive in person than in his dreams.

“Uh, hello?” she said as she waved her hand in front of his face. “Are you in there?”

Brook shook his head to bring himself back to alertness. “Sorry, I’m not sure what came over me. It is nice to meet you, Ginny,” he attempted a recovery, but he couldn’t help blushing a little.

“Nice to meet you, too, Brook,” she responded with a smirk on her face.

“Ginny, why don’t you show Brook how to get through to the platform,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Brook, where are your trunks?” looking around him for a cart.

“As I’ve been at Hogwarts most of the summer, my stuff is already there. Professor Dumbledore didn’t want me to miss the experience of the Hogwarts Express and wanted me to meet my fellow students, so he had me come here even though I was already at the school.”

“Well, I’ll just say goodbye here, Ginny dear. Have a great term and we’ll see you at Christmas,” Mrs. Weasley said as she hugged her daughter. She then whispered to Ginny, “You be nice to this one, he’s cute.”

“Oh, Mum,” Ginny replied, rolling her eyes with a groan. “Love you, see you in December.” After separating from her mom, she went back to Brook and said, “You just have to walk right into that wall; it is best to avoid flinching. And then you will be on the platform. You can follow me,” as she grabbed the handle of her cart.

“Wait, may I push your luggage for you?” asked Brook, offering her a smile.

“Sure, that would be very nice of you,” replied Ginny. She looked back at her mom who gave a smile and a nod of approval toward Brook. “Nice manners,” she mouthed to Ginny.

Brook pushed Ginny’s cart through the wall onto Platform 9 ¾ and saw the Hogwarts Express for the first time. It was bright, shiny red, with a puff of white smoke coming out of the back of the engine, trailed by a number of passenger cars. Wizarding families were all milling about, with lots of hugs and kisses being given. As Brook and Ginny walked toward the train, she asked, “So, what have you been doing at Hogwarts all summer? I was under the impression students weren’t allowed there over the summer.”

Before he could answer, Brook heard pops all around him, and about a dozen people dressed in black robes and masks just appeared out of thin air all around the platform. They had wands out and started firing at students and parents immediately. He heard someone yell, “Death Eaters!” Next to him, Ginny reacted instantly, pulling her wand out and crouching behind her trunks, and started returning fire, using her trunk as cover. Two of the masked opponents went down immediately from her spells.

Brook, meanwhile, just froze, mesmerized by the multi-colored lights flashing through the air. While he had learned a lot of spells over the summer and had some basic instruction on dueling, he had never really fought magically. All around him, it looked like chaos; spells were flying everywhere, people were lying on the ground, and smoke was rising from areas on the wall that had been hit. He was brought out of his astonishment when he heard someone yell, “Get down!” and felt himself being pulled down behind a trunk by Ginny as a spell went just over his head. As she moved to the other end of her trunk to shoot more spells, he noticed that one of the Death Eaters had slipped around behind the two of them and was aiming a curse at her. With reflexes honed from sports, Brook dove at Ginny, tackling her and narrowly avoiding the curse that ended up hitting her trunk. With his arm around her waist, he pulled her body to his and rolled with her into a small alcove that gave them some protection. The impact knocked the wind out of Ginny and she was clearly dazed, so, as she cleared her head, he reacted out of instinct and pulled out his wand, quickly went through his mental list of spells that he could utilize. He saw two different spells coming directly at them, so he yelled, “Protego!” The shield appeared instantly, but it was much stronger than the shield he normally made. In fact, it was barely translucent, only allowing a hazy view of their surroundings. He kept his wand up and it held, even though it was being battered by spell after spell. Normally it had only held up to one or two spells before it broke. He wasn’t going to worry about it at that moment; it was working and that was the important thing. He heard a gasp next to him, as Ginny had regained her faculties.

After a few more moments they heard more pops and more men and women appeared out of thin air wearing red robes and started firing off spells at the masked attackers. The battle turned quickly, and the Death Eaters that were still fighting decided to retreat and disappeared with more pops.

Brook released his shield and helped Ginny up to her feet. “Thanks for saving me. I didn’t see that Death Eater that slipped behind us. And that was some shield. Just curious, what spell did you use?

“You’re welcome. I used Protego. It did look a lot different than it usually does. Maybe it’s stronger because I’ve been practicing it a lot.”

“I’ve never seen a shield spell look like that or withstand that many spells.”

“I can’t explain it either; this stuff is all pretty new to me.”

They started walking toward her trunk. It was charred on the outside and it had blown open, spilling its contents, but it seemed to be functional. They began picking up her stuff and putting it back in the trunk. As they were cleaning up, the couple he had seen in Diagon Alley emerged out of the smoke. “Ginny, are you okay? I saw this bloke get you out of the way just in time!” said the redheaded boy, who Brook guessed was Ginny’s brother.

“I am fine. This is Brook . . . um . . . I’m sorry, I forget your last name in all of the excitement,” Ginny said, blushing a little at her memory lapse.

“No problem, Brook Pelton,” he said, holding his hand out to the boy

.

“Oh, right. Brook Pelton. I’ll remember next time. Anyway, Brook is going to be a seventh year with you two,” explained Ginny.

“I’m Ron Weasley, Ginny’s brother, and this is Hermione Granger, my girlfriend. Thanks for helping Ginny.” Hermione blushed a little at the emphasis that Ron had placed on the word ‘girlfriend’. Brook guessed their relationship was still new.

Brook shook both Ron and Hermione’s hands and said, “Pleased to meet you. The Headmaster suggested that I try to meet up with the two of you on the train. He thought that you might help me get acclimated.”

“Nice meeting you, too,” said Hermione. "We'll help in any way that we can."

The four of them proceeded to repack Ginny’s trunk and Ron carried it over to the train.

“Thanks for your help,” Ginny said to Brook, Ron, and Hermione. They walked down the aisle of the train until Ron opened a compartment and pulled Ginny’s trunk into it. Brook felt a little awkward, desperately wanting to spend the ride with Ginny, but not wanting to intrude.

“This is where Hermione, Ginny, and I are sitting. Would you like to join us, Brook? It’s the least we can do for saving Ginny.”

Brook leapt at the chance, wanting to get to know the girl from his dreams better. “Sure, I’d like that,” trying to not sound too eager.

“Great! Ron and I need to go to the Prefects car and run the meeting as Head Boy and Girl, but we’ll be back later.”

“More like she’s running the meeting. I’m just along for the ride,” Ron whispered to Brook, but not quietly enough as Hermione glared at him.

“Let’s go Ron!” she said, tersely as she grabbed his hand. “Nice meeting you again, Brook,” with a kinder tone.

After they had left, Brook asked Ginny how long Ron and Hermione had been going out. “They have been crazy for each other for years, but in denial. Just this last summer, my thick brother finally told her he fancied her. Today is sort of their coming out party as it’s the first time most of their friends will see them together as a couple.”

Brook sat down opposite Ginny, not disappointed at all that they were left alone in the compartment for the ride to Hogwarts. I'm not sure how the girl I've been dreaming about my whole life could be real, but I'm not going to complain. Maybe this was just part of the magical world.

**********

Ginny eyed the mysterious boy sitting across from her. He was new to Hogwarts, but had spent the summer there. He didn’t know how to get through to the platform, but performed the best shield spell she had ever seen.

“Before we were so rudely interrupted,” she said with a smirk and twinkle in her eye, “I asked you about your summer at Hogwarts.”

"Oh, yeah. It’s a little bit of a story. See, I’ve lived my whole life in America, but just found out this summer that I am a wizard. Dumbledore invited me to come to Hogwarts to help me catch up so that I wouldn’t have to attend classes with a bunch of eleven year olds.”

“You mean, you’ve only been doing magic for a few months, and you can already make a shield like that one? I’m impressed.”

“Thanks. The professors say that I have caught on pretty quickly, but they don’t have much experience with teaching a seventeen year old all of the basics of magic. I think that maybe anyone my age would probably learn quickly.”

“If you are American, why aren’t you going to Salem or Tsoodzil?”

“Well, my parents were killed in a car accident this summer, and my closest relatives are actually British, which is how Dumbledore found me and told me I was a wizard. He was the one suggested I come to Hogwarts.”

Before Ginny could offer her condolences, the compartment door opened and two more students came in. The boy was of medium build and height with sandy blonde hair, while the girl, well she was just different. She had straggly waist length blonde hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. Perched atop her head was a strange pair of sunglasses that had two different colored lenses and were covered by glitter. She had large silver grey eyes that seemed to wander around the room, never stopping to look at anything in particular. She had what looked like radishes dangling from her ears and bottle caps strung together for a necklace.

Ginny jumped up, saying, “Neville! Luna!” giving both of them a hug.

“Hi, Ginny! Have a good summer?” asked Neville.

“It was fine. Nothing special other than Bill and Fleur's wedding, which kept us all pretty busy. But after that, lots of rest and relaxation around the pond. You?”

“My Gran let me build a greenhouse on the back of our house. It seems she has finally accepted that I don’t want to work for the Ministry or be an Auror and is letting me explore herbology. She even said she would be okay if I continued to study it after Hogwarts.”

“That’s great, Neville! How about you Luna?”

“My father and I went to Norway to investigate a Crumpled-Horn Snorkack sighting, but only found evidence of a mating ritual, but we never saw any actual creatures. It was a lot of fun though.” Crumpled-Horn Snorkack? What the heck is that? thought Brook. Maybe I have a lot more to learn about the Magical world. “Who is this boy sitting with you Ginny?” asked Luna.

“Sorry about that. Luna, Neville, this is Brook Pelton.” She whispered to Brook, “See, I remembered this time,” with a wink. “Brook, this is Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, two of my best friends. Brook is a new student at Hogwarts from America. He’s going to be in your year, Neville.”

“Nice to meet you, mate,” said Neville, offering his hand.

Brook shook Neville’s hand and then reached over to shake Luna’s hand, but she just tilted her head and stared at him, without saying anything, leaving Brook with his hand awkwardly outstretched before her. Brook and Neville looked at each other and shrugged. Neville whispered, “Don’t take it personally; Luna’s always been a little different, but she’s a great friend and will have your back in a pinch.”

Neville sat down next to Brook while Luna sat next to Ginny across from them. She lowered her glasses from the top of her head to her eyes and stared more at Brook, making him a little uncomfortable. She then muttered, “Ah, now I see what’s wrong,” removed her glasses, turned to Ginny and said, “Were you involved in that fight on the platform. Neville and I were already on the train, and they wouldn’t let anyone off until it was over and we couldn’t see much through the windows.”

“Yes, Brook and I were both in it. As a matter of fact, Brook may have saved me by getting me out of the way of a spell and then casting a wicked shield.”

Brook blushed a little, saying, “Oh, anyone would have done that.”

“Were you able to see who any of the Death Eaters were?” asked Neville.

“No, the cowards were all wearing masks, as usual. I think the Aurors caught five or six before the rest Apparated away.”

The compartment door opened again, revealing a tall dark skinned boy. Ginny jumped up again, yelled, “Dean!” and threw her arms around his neck. He pecked her on the lips and Ginny said, “I’ve missed you so much over the summer!”

Neville leaned over to Brook and whispered, “That’s Dean Thomas. He’s another seventh year with us. Ginny and Dean have been going out since before last summer.” Brook tried to hide his disappointment; he was already taken with Ginny, even if she hadn’t been the “girl of his dreams.” Oh, well, he thought. I don’t have time for a relationship now anyway with all I am going to have to do to catch up with these guys.

Ginny finally let go of Dean and turned to the rest of the compartment and said, “Dean, this is Brook Pelton. He’s a new seventh year. This is Dean Thomas, another Gryffindor seventh year, like Ron and Neville. Hey, Brook, do you know what house you are in, or do you have to be sorted with all of the first years?”

“No, and boy am I glad. I am sure I’ll get enough notice being new and all; I don’t need to call any more attention to myself. As soon as I arrived to Hogwarts this summer, Dumbledore had me sorted and I am in Gryffindor too.”

Dean said, “Welcome to the dorm then, mate! Hope you can sleep through snoring or know how to do a good silencing charm.” He and Ginny sat down together and were holding their own private conversation, leaving Neville and Luna to talk with Brook. Neville asked, “You said you were at Hogwarts this summer. How did that happen?”

Brook explained his story again to Neville and Luna, who sat on either side of him. As he was talking, he thought that it was good that Dumbledore, McGonagall, and he had sat down to come up with a logical cover story that was close enough to the truth that it wouldn’t be hard to remember. The professors warned him that his fellow students, while most of them would be friendly, they would also be very curious.

When he was done, Luna leaned in and whispered to Brook, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your secret.” Brook was stunned and gave her a questioning look. “I can see the real you with my Spectraspecs,” she added. “I am sure you have a good reason for your ruse and will tell us all the truth when you are ready.” Before he could ask her any further questions, she got up and announced she was going to the loo. Dean gave Ginny another peck on the cheek and also got up and said that he was going back to his compartment with Seamus. Brook thought he saw a moment of frustration on Ginny’s face as Dean left, but he decided that it was just wishful thinking on his part, as she seemed fine the rest of the trip.

Before the door could slide closed, a hand caught it and Ron and Hermione came in hand in hand, greeted Neville and sat down next to Ginny, requiring her to slide over a little. Neville had a smirk on his face as he asked, “Oi, Ron and Hermione, anything you want to tell us?” looking back and forth between them.

Hermione blushed again while Ron announced that they were a couple. “About time!” said Neville. “Everyone has known you fancied each other since fourth year. When did you finally wise up?”

Hermione answered, “Just after school ended. I stayed at the Burrow for the first few weeks of the summer so my parents could have a second honeymoon and Ron admitted to his feelings while we were watching a sunset over the pond. It was very romantic!”

“It wasn’t that romantic finding you two snogging everywhere I went!” grumbled Ginny. “I love you like a sister, Hermione, but was I glad you when you went home! It was safe to walk into a room again without finding the two of you groping each other.”

“Well, I’ll have to wait until we get back to our dorm to see who won the pool; it’s packed deep in my trunk,” said Neville.

“What pool?” asked Ron.

“Well, we have a pool betting on when you two would finally get together. I forget who had summer between sixth and seventh year.”

“Who all was in this pool?” asked the mortified Hermione.

“Almost all of the upper years in Gryffindor and a couple of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Malfoy even tried to get in on the action, but we turned him down on principle,” chuckled Neville. “I think we have around thirty people in the pool. At 2 galleons a piece, the winner is going to get a lot of money.”

“Did you know about this, Ginny?” asked Hermione.

“Of course, I did. I had Christmas holidays sixth year. I did my best to push things along to win but it didn't work,” Ginny said with a smirk.

You could see the wheels turning in Ron and Hermione’s brains before Hermione said, “Wait, did you have anything to do with the doorknob on the bathroom breaking that trapped us in the loo for several hours on Boxing Day?”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” Ginny replied, with a mischievous grin.

“Ginny, you didn’t!” said Hermione, punching her lightly in the shoulder.

Everyone then broke out in laughter at Ginny’s prank, but Ron then said, “So, Brook. Other than being able to sweep my sister off her feet,” he said with a wink at Ginny who responded with sticking her tongue at him, “we don’t know anything else about you. What’s your story?”

Brook was starting to wish he could just stand up in front of the school, tell everyone his cover story, and get it over with once and for all. He took a deep breath, knowing that he needed to make sure there were no inconsistencies with his story, as Ginny and Neville had both heard it already. But he was mostly concerned with Hermione. Dumbledore and McGonagall had especially cautioned him about Hermione; if he slipped up in front of her, she would definitely take hold of any discrepancies and badger him until she was satisfied. “Well, I grew up a Muggle in America. After my parents died this spring, Dumbledore visited me, telling me I was a wizard. Understandably, I was stunned, but when he explained several weird occurrences in my life as accidental magic, I began to believe him. He said that my name had shown up on the rolls here at Hogwarts since I was eleven, but the owls never found me because I was across the Atlantic. Apparently, my closest wizarding relatives are British, which is why I was supposed to attend here and did not show up on Salem’s or Tsoodzil’s lists of students. Anyway, Dumbledore had been looking for me and eventually tracked me down this summer.”

“How did your parents die?” asked Hermione.

“A car accident. A truck crossed the center line and was going to run right into us. My dad swerved but the car went off the road, rolled over many times and then caught fire. However, somehow I was thrown free without more than a few scratches. That was what helped Dumbledore find me. The newspaper article about my parents’ death but my ‘miraculous’ survival was all over the country, and Dumbledore correctly guessed that I must be a wizard. With a little more research, he found about my British relatives, and then offered to have me come to Hogwarts.”

“If you just found out you are a wizard, how are you going to be in our year?” asked Ron.

“Dumbledore brought me back to Hogwarts as soon as he found me and I’ve been getting remedial training over the summer to bring me up to speed. They decided to focus on Transfiguration, Defence, and Charms, because those were the most important for me to know. They told me I will be taking Charms and Defence with the seventh years, but I am not as far along in Transfiguration, so I will be with the sixth years in that class.”

“Oh, good, you’ll be with me then for Transfiguration.” said Ginny.

Hadn't thought of that benefit to being held back, thought Brook.

“You aren’t taking Potions? Aren’t you lucky; you won’t have to deal with Snape,” added Ron.

“Who is Snape? I thought I had met all of the faculty,” replied Brook.

“Professor Snape,” began Hermione with the emphasis on the word ‘Professor’, “is our Potions Master. He knows a lot about potions, but some students feel he shows a little favoritism to his own house.”

Funny; I was taught Potions by Professor Slughorn, thought Brook.

“A little favoritism? That slimy git takes points away from us any chance he gets, even if we brew the potion correctly,” grumbled Ron. “Speaking of houses, have you been sorted yet?”

“Yes, he’s in Gryffindor, so we warned him to work on his Silencio spell so that he can sleep through your snoring Ron,” teased Neville.

“Hey, I’m not the only one!” protested Ron.

The conversation then moved on to the coming school year, the classes everyone would be taking, and, of course, speculation on whom the Defence teacher would be.

Hermione explained, “See, for years, the teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts has only lasted one year and they have to find a new one every year. I don’t know how far back this supposed curse has been going on, but it has held true while we’ve been there.”

“Yeah,” Ron added, “our first year we had a stutterer who ended up being possessed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and tried to steal the Philosopher’s Stone. Second year we had a fraud who only wanted to puff his own ego by telling about his exploits, none of which he had actually done. Third year we had a great teacher, but at the end of the year it was discovered he was a werewolf by some of the parents, and they demanded he be removed for the safety of the students.”

“A werewolf? They really exist?” asked Brook.

“Yes, but some of them are alright. When not under the influence of the full moon, Professor Lupin is perfectly normal and was probably the best Defence teacher we ever had. And Dumbledore made sure that it was safe for the students. It’s a shame that he had to lose his job over bigotry,” huffed Hermione.

This world gets curiouser and curiouser, thought Brook. Wonder if there are vampires and creatures from the Black Lagoon too?

“Anyway,” continued Ron, “fourth year we had an ex-Auror, who also was pretty good, but he was only going to be there for the year to lend extra security due to the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Fifth year we had a Ministry official who decided that we should only learn theory and do no actual practical spells. She was absolutely horrid. Sixth year we had another Auror whom we liked, but she was killed over the summer by Death Eaters, so we’ll have to break in another professor. Say, Pelton, who’s been teaching you Defence over the summer? Maybe that’s who we’ll have.”

“I doubt it; Professors Dumbledore and Flitwick have been sharing those duties.” And Tonks too, but I’m supposed to keep that quiet for some reason, he thought.

“No, neither of them will be teaching Defence. I hope whoever we have is good; we need to prepare for our NEWTs this year and we can’t afford another disaster like second or fifth year,” said Hermione.

“That’s my ‘Mione, always worried about NEWTs and studying,” said Ron as he put his arm around her and giving her a squeeze.

“Don’t call me ‘‘Mione,’ Ron; you know I don’t like it.”

“Why do you think I do it? I have to get you riled up about something,” Ron said with a smirk.

“Their version of foreplay,” whispered Ginny to Brook. They were soon interrupted by the door sliding open again. This certainly is a popular compartment, thought Brook. In stepped a thin boy with almost white hair slicked back and a condescending look on his face, flanked by two large boys who were obviously followers of the first boy.

“Well, if it isn’t the loser club,” said the first boy.

“Mates, the tradition continues. It just wouldn’t be a trip back to Hogwarts if Draco Malfoy and his goon squad didn’t come and insult us, trying to provoke us into a fight,” said Ron.

“Yeah, it’s good to know that the more things change, the more things stay the same,” added Neville.

Draco was about to respond when he noticed Brook. “Who is this? You lot recruited another plonker to join you?”

“Fine way for you to greet a new student, Malfoy,” said Ginny. “This is Brook Pelton, and before you try to convince him how wonderful Slytherin house is, he’s already been sorted into Gryffindor.”

“From the looks of him, we wouldn’t want him in Slytherin. Probably can’t even hold the right end of a wand. But he is sitting pretty close to Longbottom there. He looks like he might want to hold your wand, Longbottom,” Draco said, laughing at his own joke while Crabbe and Goyle slapped him on the back in agreement.

Brook, understanding Malfoy’s insult and his temper flaring, pulled out his wand. Ginny tried to stop him, placing a hand on his forearm, saying, “Don’t do anything Brook. Malfoy’s not worth it.”

As Brook stood up, there was a sudden force like a wind coming from his chest that blew all three of the Slytherins back out of the compartment and into the opposite wall, knocking them out. The others in the compartment all looked at Brook in astonishment. “What spell was that, mate?” asked Ron.

Brook was a little surprised himself. “I guess that was just a bit of accidental magic. Dumbledore has been working with me to control it, but maybe I need to work on it some more. Or maybe not,” he said with a smile at the others. He walked over and closed the compartment door. “Does the trash collection come by soon? They have a little more to pick up this afternoon.”

Ron and Neville slapped him on the back. “I think you’re going to fit in just fine, Brook,” said Ron.

The rest of the trip was spent relaxing. Ron and Neville played a game in which the cards would spontaneously explode while Ginny and Hermione talked quietly to each other, interspersed with occasional giggles. Brook rested, dozing some, but while he was awake he found that his eyes were drawn over to Ginny whenever she wasn’t looking. He had finally met the “girl in his dreams” whom he had fantasized of for years, but she was taken. Just another wrinkle to this wild ride called life, he thought before dozing off again.

Back to index


Chapter 9: Deflections

Deflections

Brook was woken by a shake of his shoulder. “Brook, it’s time to wake up and change into our robes. We’re almost to Hogwarts.” While everyone else was getting into their trunks, Brook stood up and pulled out of his pocket what looked like a black handkerchief. He then took out his wand, tapped it on the cloth, and said, “Engorgio.” The fabric grew into a Hogwarts robe, which he then put on.

When the train stopped, everyone got off. Brook heard Hagrid yelling, “Firs’ years, firs’ years, over here!” As they walked by, they all waved to him. “Have a good firs’ ride on the Hogwarts Express, there Brook? Looks like you made some friends already.”

“Once we got on the train, it was fine. And yes, I do feel very welcomed by my class mates.”

Brook walked with the rest of the group to a line of carriages pulled by strange beasts that looked like a cross between a horse and a bat. “What are those?” asked Brook.

Luna, who had rejoined their group, said, “Those are thestrals. Most people can’t see them. But obviously you can. They can only be seen by people who have witnessed death. I can see them because I saw my mum die. Who did you see?”

“My parents,” Brook whispered. He looked down, trying to hold back the tears. While initially he didn’t remember anything after the accident, one memory did return in which he saw the Mustang burning with his parents inside. He was screaming for his Mom and Dad, but he couldn’t get close because of some force holding him back. He had since learned that Dumbledore was restraining him with his magic. He had had a few nightmares reliving that memory as well.

He was stirred from his memory by an arm wrapping around him and patting him on the shoulder.

“I can’t imagine what that would be like, to see your parents die. I am so sorry,” said Ginny.

He wanted to bury his face in her shoulder and let her comfort him, but just her touch seemed to calm him. So he took a deep breath, blinked back the unshed tears in his eyes and looked up. He was not going to break down in front of these people he had just met, even if it seemed like they wouldn’t mind. “I’m alright. The emotions are just still a little raw.”

The carriages let them off at the steps of Hogwarts and they walked into the Great Hall. It was the first time he had seen it with all of the tables set up. All around him students were greeting each other, shaking hands, hugging, and patting on backs. He felt a little out of place, so he stood to the side while everyone caught up with old friends. He was surprised when Ginny suddenly grabbed his hand.

“Come on, Brook, let’s sit down at the Gryffindor table and we can introduce you to everyone.” Her touch caused a tingle in his hand, and he wanted to squeeze back a message of gratitude, but remembered that she wasn’t available. Damn this is going to be hard!

Brook sat down and met the rest of the older Gryffindors. Ginny sat on one side of him and Neville on the other, with Ron and Hermione across from him. He was enjoying the seating arrangement until Dean came over and squeezed between Brook and Ginny. The noise in the room started to diminish, and he looked up and saw Dumbledore at the dais, signaling with his hands for people to quiet. Then, Professor McGonagall led in a group of first year students from a side door to prepare them for the sorting. The Sorting Hat was placed on a stool and it began its annual song. He didn’t pay much attention as he was thinking about Ginny, just a few inches away, but seemingly miles apart because of Dean. He didn’t understand why he was so attracted to her. Oh, it seemed that she might be the girl who had been in his dreams for years, but his reaction to her in person was like nothing he had ever experienced. It wasn’t lust; he had felt that on more than one occasion and this was different. She had been so easy to talk to on the train, and just her touch seemed to calm him when he was thinking about his parents. He felt this need to get to know her better, so strong that it was almost a compulsion. Why he felt this he had no idea: he just sensed it deep inside. He knew he was being silly as they had no foundation for a relationship. He was going to have to just get over it, because it looked like they were going to be seeing a lot of each other. If he didn’t, he would spend the entire year miserable. He would try to be as good a friend as he could and not worry about the other stuff.

While he was thinking, the sorting had finished and Dumbledore was making some opening remarks. “Welcome to all students for another year of learning and growing. I would like to recognize the changes to our faculty. Please give a warm welcome to our new Potions teacher, Professor Slughorn.” There was some murmuring in the audience, including from Ron and Hermione. Most people had assumed that the faculty member they didn’t recognize at the head table was the new Defence teacher. “Professor Slughorn has taught Potions in the past and has agreed to come out of retirement to help us out. As many of you know, Professor Jones, our Defence instructor, was tragically killed over the summer, so I have asked Professor Snape to take her place and teach Defence.” This was filled with some groans from the tables, but the Slytherin table stood up and applauded. Snape, who Ron had described fairly well as a “greasy haired git,” stood and acknowledged the support from his house. “Now it is time to eat. Tuck in!” signaled Dumbledore. As he said this, food magically appeared on all the tables and the students dug in.

After eating, Dumbledore again arose, saying, “A few more announcements before we depart for the dorms after a busy day. First, the Forbidden Forest is just that, forbidden, so all students are reminded to stay away. Mr. Filch has posted the list of banned items in your common rooms, which has grown significantly with the opening of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, so please consider yourself informed. Now, it is time to go to the dorms. First years follow your prefects. Good night and rest well: you have a big first day of classes tomorrow.”

The student body rose as one and made their way for the doors. Brook walked with Neville, trying to keep his distance from Ginny and Dean. When they got back to the dorm, everyone except Brook started to unpack their trunks. As Ron was pulling out his books, he looked over to Brook’s bed, which was next to his, and noticed something that made his eyes widen.

“Is that a Firebolt 2C? I’ve only just seen it through the window. Is it yours, Brook?”

“It is indeed,” replied Brook with a chuckle. McGonagall had warned him that Ron would react like this when he saw the 2C.

“Do you play Quidditch?”

“Well, I’ve never actually played but Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall worked with me a little this summer and they think I could be a pretty good Seeker.”

“You’re a Seeker? I’m the Gryffindor team captain and we need a Seeker desperately. With a 2C you’ll be unbeatable. But can you control it? I heard they can be temperamental.”

“I’ve been flying every chance I get over the last three weeks, so I have a pretty good feel for it.”

“House tryouts will probably be the second weekend. I’ll have to talk to McGonagall about it. If you are any good, maybe we can finally win a match or two. A Seeker is all we really need, Ginny and Dean are excellent chasers, and Peakes and Coote are fair beaters, and I’ve been told a few professional scouts are going to come to see me play this year. If we can win, it will help my chance of playing professionally.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet. Perhaps you should see me fly first. Hold your judgment until then.”

Ron then started talking about his plans for practices and plays, but he didn’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular. Dean came over to Brook and whispered, “Now, you’ve done it and got him started on Quidditch! He won’t stop until he falls asleep. We’ve all learned that Silencio works for Quidditch talk as well as his snoring,” he said with a snicker.

“It sounds like it’s good that I did get that spell down this summer.”

Neville was on the other side of the room digging through his trunk, ignoring Ron’s droning. “Got it!” he said as he held up a parchment. As he studied it, he said, “Let’s see, summer between sixth and seventh year. Hmmm, Lavender had spring of sixth year, so close, but not quite. And Hannah Abbott had Halloween seventh year. Wait here it is. Hey, Seamus, you won! You had this past summer in the pool. With 28 people participating, that means you won fifty-six galleons. Congratulations. Here are your winnings.”

Seamus took the sack of money from Neville and said, “Thanks, Ron, for making this all possible, finally. I say we have a party after the first Hogsmeade weekend to celebrate. Fifty-six galleons will buy a lot of firewhiskey.”

Ron turned red, and looked a little put out, but at least it stopped the Quidditch strategizing. The rest of the boys finished unpacking and prepared for bed. Brook lay down, pulled his curtains closed, activated the Silencio charm, and tried to go to sleep. When sleep did come, it was filled with thoughts of a certain red haired witch.

**********

September 10, 1997

Dear Aaron,

Thanks for the letter. It was good to hear how things are going back home. It’s great that the football team is undefeated and that you are leading the conference in passing! And I don’t feel sorry for you one bit that you are having such a hard time picking which cheerleader to take to Homecoming. What happened to Melanie being “the one"?

Now that school has started here, things are very different. The castle is now alive with students and it is more cheerful. I’ve been surprised at how easily I am making friends. My worries about not fitting in seem silly now that I look back on it. But there a lot of things that are still taking some getting used to. This school is so different from our high school.

For instance, we have a dress code for class. We have to wear white shirts and ties, (I’ve finally gotten better at tying them through practice) but we also have to wear robes like judges wear. Fortunately, we can wear what we want at other times. The school is divided into four different houses, sort of like teams. Each house has its own dorm and a common room for relaxing and studying. The houses battle for the House Cup, a competition in which points can be earned and taken away for any of a number of things. Houses can earn points by making a good point in class, or performing a skill well while points can be deducted for being tardy, talking out of turn, disobeying, or, in the case of one biased professor, for no reason at all. I was placed in Gryffindor, but this professor is the head of Slytherin, and he favors the students in his house. He takes points from us and gives them to Slytherin for things he makes up. He teaches Self-Defense, and he isn’t happy that a student who has only had a few months of training like me is in his class, even though I am almost as skilled as some of the students.

Brook actually downplayed how biased Snape had been from day one. Professor Snape had stridden into the class after everyone was seated with his cloak flying behind him like a cape. Reminds me of Batman, thought Brook, suppressing a chortle. When he arrived at the front of the class, he started by saying, “As your previous Defence education has been very spotty, I am sure that many of you will be far below my standards. Because of this, I will be forced to focus much more on theory than practice. And as it is a NEWT year, so I will expect you to work very hard and there will be a lot of homework.”

Neville leaned over to Brook, whispering, “Every professor we’ve had so far has given us the same lecture. We know that we have NEWTs at the end of the year. Give it a rest already.”

“Mr. Longbottom, no talking while I am talking. 10 points from Gryffindor!” said Snape.

Brook heard Ron mutter, “And so it begins” under his breath, but, thankfully, Snape didn’t hear.

“Now,” Snape continued as he paced around the room, “just like when I taught Potions, I have high standards for my NEWT level Defence students. For my sixth year students, I am only allowing those who received an ‘O’ on their OWLs in Defence, but there are those of you seventh years that were allowed to continue with an ‘E’ last year, so I am stuck with you.” He glared at several students, including Ron and Neville, one at a time. “And then there is our new star student, who was forced upon me, even though he has had only two months of magical training and didn’t even take OWLs.” His glare transferred to Brook. “Understand, while I was forced to let those of you who are below my standards into my class, I do not have to keep you in. Don’t give me any reason to remove you, because if you do, you will be gone in a heartbeat.”

He stopped directly in front of Brook, placed his hands on Brook’s desk, leaned down so he was just inches from Brook’s nose, and said, “Do I make myself clear?”

Brook just nodded. Snape stood up and raged, “Well, what is your answer, Mr. Pelton?”

“Yes, Professor, you were very clear,” Brook replied quietly. And I thought Ron was exaggerating when he talked about Snape, he said to himself.

“Now, let’s see if you have any skills, Mr. Pelton. Up to the front of class. Mr. Malfoy, you too. Mr. Malfoy I want you to fire spells and hexes at Mr. Pelton while he defends himself. No offensive spells, Mr. Pelton, only defensive ones. Mr. Malfoy, only Stunners and Stinging hexes, nothing that could be considered injurious. Don’t want to hurt the Headmaster’s pet too much. Do you understand?”

Both students nodded and assumed dueling positions. “On three,” said Snape. “One, two, . . .” When Snape had barely finished saying two, Malfoy fired a Stunner at Brook. Brook was already diving out of the way when Snape finally said, “Three.” Brook rolled up back into a defensive position and easily dodged all of Draco’s spells. Paintball really is coming in handy, he thought. After a few minutes, Malfoy was getting more and more frustrated and fired a Severing charm directly at the level of Brook’s neck. Brook ducked just below it, but he felt some of his hair move as it flew past.

That was close. Perhaps I need to try something else. Draco then threw another Stunner at him, but Brook, remembering the Death Eater attack on the platform and thinking about what he did to protect Ginny, put everything he had behind his Protego and instead of absorbing the spell, the shield reflected it back at Draco, knocking him out.

Snape yelled, “Stop!” He went over to Draco and enervated him. “Mr. Malfoy, excellent use of spells, thirty points for Slytherin. Mr. Pelton, you were instructed to use defensive spells, not to dodge spells, so ten points from Gryffindor for each time you dodged spells, and twenty points for using a shield charm as an offensive spell. You obviously have a lot to learn before you are ready to be in this class, Mr. Pelton. Any more actions like that and I will have you removed from this class, regardless of what the Headmaster says!”

Ron stood up, his face all red. “What about the fact that Malfoy started early and used a potentially lethal spell, against your instructions?”

“Twenty more points from Gryffindor for your outburst, Mr. Weasley.” He then looked at the rest of the Gryffindors, who were all fuming, and asked, “Do you the rest of you have anything to add? No? I thought not. Now, let’s get on with the class. Who can tell me about Fiendfyre?” After a pause, he added with a sneer, “Besides Miss Granger,” who was waving her hand in the air. Seeing no other volunteers, he proceeded, “Of course, not. I would expect nothing more from this group,” he said, before going into his lecture.

Other than that one ‘git’ of teacher (a British term for jerk), classes are going well. I like the rest of my teachers, and, while challenging, I am still enjoying the subjects like Energy Transfer and Matter Transformation. They brought in a tutor to help me continue to catch up in all of my classes. He taught here a few years ago, but resigned because of bigoted discrimination of some of the parents. I think I am going to really enjoy working with him.

Brook thought back to his first session with his tutor. After lunch on the first day of classes, he waited in an empty classroom for his tutor. Through the door walked a disheveled middle aged wizard with light brown hair with a generous sprinkling of grey. He had a few scars on his face and his clothes looked like he had owned them too long. He extended his hand, saying, “I am Remus Lupin. You must be Brook Pelton. Dumbledore has told me a lot about you and your unusual circumstances. I am looking forward to working with you. He said that we would focus on dueling, but that you might need help with any of your classes. I taught Defence here a few years ago and it really is nice to be back at Hogwarts.”

Brook wondered exactly how much of his “unusual circumstances” Lupin actually knew, but figured that would reveal itself in time. Brook remembered the conversation on the train concerning the Defence instructors, and recalled that Professor Lupin had been the werewolf. At first, he had been a little apprehensive, despite the reassurances of his classmates, but the tutor had soon put him at ease.

“Since you just started classes today, I am guessing you don’t have many questions yet.”

“Well, actually I do have one question. I know that with practice some spells get stronger, but do they also get stronger with more concentration or with adrenaline behind it?”

“Some spells do become stronger with extra energy. Why do you ask?”

“Did you hear about the Death Eater attack at King’s Crossing?”

“Yes. Were you involved?”

“Yeah, it was crazy, but something happened that I don't understand.”

“Tell me about it.”

“As soon as the Death Eaters Apparated, they started firing. Ginny Weasley and I were hiding behind her trunks. She was firing right back at them, but my mind went blank and I couldn’t think of any spell that would be helpful. Then I saw a Death Eater trying to flank us and fired at Ginny. I pushed her out of the way and then threw a shield to protect us until the battle was over. But it was different than any shield I had produced before. That’s why I asked the question. You see, it was much stronger than any shield I’ve ever been able to do. I thought because I was so scared, I was able to make it stronger.”

“What shield spell did you use?”

Protego.”

“When you say stronger, what do you mean?”

“I threw it like I usually do, but this one held and held, no matter how many spells hit it. It was also harder to see through than my normal shield. I thought perhaps I just was getting better at it, but Ginny said that she had never seen a shield like it. Then, earlier today in Defence, I tried to do the same thing, but the best I could do was create a shield that bounced back a spell.”

“Interesting. Let’s see your shield.”

Protego!” yelled Brook and a shield surrounded him. Lupin fired a stunner at it and it dissolved as soon as it was hit.

“Yeah, that’s what normally happens.”

“Now, think about what you did on the platform.”

Brook thought about diving and pulling Ginny toward himself, and then said Protego, but this time when Remus shot his stunner at it, it bounced off.

“That is interesting. To answer your question, yes, for some spells emotions can make them stronger, but I’ve never heard of a shield being as strong as you describe. I will have to do some research.”

For the rest of the time, Lupin had him show him what spells he knew and how quickly he could fire them. By the end of the afternoon, Brook was tired but Lupin had said that he was impressed at how far he had progressed in just a few months, so he felt satisfied that he had done well.

Another way to earn house points is through Quidditch, an intramural sport. Hogwarts is the only school in Britain that plays it, but a few other schools play it in other countries. The game is sort of like team handball that is played in the Olympics, with a few alterations. Each house has a team and the matches are attended by the whole student body. From what I hear, the cheering is just as loud as any football game. It’s the only sport they play here, so, of course, I had to get involved. My house team was pretty set with veterans, but they need one position filled, so I am going to try out. I’ll let you know how that goes.

When he was done with Professor Lupin, he went back to the common room, but the rest of the students were still in class, so he decided to go flying. He grabbed his 2C and went down to the pitch. He had been flying for a while when he noticed a crowd had formed in the stands. Curious, he flew down to see who was there. As he neared, he identified several Gryffindors, including the rest of the Quidditch team, Hermione, Neville, and Seamus, but also several people he didn’t recognize. When he landed, Ron came up to him and said, “Wow, that was some great flying! Want to see how you do chasing a Snitch?”

“Sure.” Ron opened up what looked like a suitcase and released a small gold ball with rapidly flapping wings. Brook took off like a shot after it, but it disappeared. A few minutes later he was flying lazily when he saw it again down at the base of the highest ring and put his broom into a steep dive. The Snitch was circling the base as he approached it. He pulled out of his dive at the last moment, did a quick circle around the base and then reached out and grabbed the Snitch.

He flew back to Ron, who now was standing with Ginny and Dean. Ron started clapping and was joined by the rest of the crowd. When Brook got off his broom, Ron turned to Ginny and Dean, saying, ”I don’t know that we even have to have tryouts now. I think we have our Seeker.”

In answer to your question about girls (and, yes, I knew you were going to ask about girls), there are plenty of girls here now that school has started, and other than the fact that they all wear uniforms, it’s just like our school with the variety. There is one girl that I would like to get to know better, but she is already dating someone. Well, I probably won’t have time to think about girls much with all the studying I have to do.

Hope you figure out your Homecoming dilemma. I’ll write soon.

Brook

Back to index


Chapter 10: Waves and Particles

Waves and Particles

Ron did have Quidditch tryouts the second weekend, but they were just a formality. Ron and Ginny had been on the team for two years, while Dean, Demelza Robins, Jimmy Peakes, and Ritchie Coote had been on the team the year before. The only position that was open was for Seeker, and Brook was a shoe-in for it. Only one other person tried out, a small third year girl named Lydia Forest. She used one of the school brooms, and had no chance against Brook on his 2C. To be fair, even on a school broom, Brook would have flown circles around her. Despite there not being much competition, a huge crowd showed up for the tryouts, because the news that Brook had a 2C had spread throughout the school. All four houses were even represented. Brook did not disappoint, giving a good demonstration to all there just how fast he could fly and how well he could control it. When he caught the Snitch, there was almost as much cheering as at a match.

After the tryout, Lydia was walking away, obviously dejected. Brook went up to her, put his arm around her. "Lydia, you flew really well out there today."

"No, I didn't. You're just saying that."

"No, really you did. I know how hard it is to fly on those school brooms, you handled it well."

Her face turned a little pink and turned downward. "Thanks," she said quietly.

"You're welcome. Would you be interested in working with me this year? I think with a little help you could be really good. Ron tells me that we could always use a backup so you could be Reserve Seeker and, as I won't be around next year, that would get you ready to take over for me."

Her face brightened and a huge smile broke out. "Really? I'd love to!"

"Great. After each practice, we can fly together."

"I'll look forward to that!" She took off towards the castle, practically skipping.

Ginny watched this from a little distance and then caught up with Brook as he walked up to the castle. “That was a really nice thing you did Brook.”

“I know just how she feels. One year, I tried out for shortstop when I was a freshman and was beaten out by an older, bigger boy. But he went out of his way to convince me to keep practicing. I worked really hard with my dad that next year, and I made the team the next year.”

“I didn’t follow much of that, but I am going to guess that the situation was similar to Lydia’s.”

“Yes, pretty close,” replied Brook, but quietly.

Ginny noticed the change in Brook’s tone. She looked over at him; his head was bowed and she couldn’t really see his face. “Brook, are you okay?”

He swallowed, and then looked over at Ginny, his eyes a little moist. “Sorry, Ginny. Sometimes, I can almost forget that my parents are dead, like when I’m flying or concentrating on learning a new skill, but then, wham, it just hits me that they are truly gone. This time I was remembering the look on my dad’s face when I came home and told him I made the team that next season; I don’t think he was ever more proud of me.” After a pause, he added, “I really miss that look.” He started to walk away, but Ginny caught up to him and gave him a hug.

He reveled in being this close to her; it felt comfortable, like home. But then he remembered Dean and pulled back suddenly and said, “Thanks, Ginny, I needed that,” as he walked away quickly, leaving a stunned Ginny in his wake.

**********

The next day, he was in the common room, working on his Defence essay when Hermione came and sat down next to him. “You look puzzled, Brook. What are you working on? Need help on Snape’s assignment?”

“Actually, the essay is pretty straightforward. He asked us to be able to identify a variety of spells commonly used in dueling if they were cast non-verbally. Most of the ones he listed can be identified by their color or the wand movement. What was puzzling me is why some spells have colors and others don’t. Is that covered earlier in the curriculum? Since the professors skipped a lot of theory in my training, I was wondering if I missed something.”

“No, that topic hasn’t been covered because there isn’t much known about why spells are specific colors. I think it is because the knowledge of science, in this case physics, is woefully poor in the magical world. I was actually reading an article this past summer from the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry on the topic. They were working with a new spell, which shoots out a stream of bright white light that can be used to cut through objects, like a laser. They were investigating what different materials it could be used to cut when they tried it on glass. It worked fine on a pane of glass, but when it was used on a glass block, the glass worked as a prism and split the white light into its seven colors. The interesting finding was that none of the separated colors had the ability to cut through anything. They surmised that perhaps the white light was just a conduit carrying the spell in some way and when the light was split the magic was no longer carried. But when I read it, it made me think about wave theory of light and I wondered if certain wavelengths of light are necessary to carry some spells.”

“Hmm, that’s interesting, Hermione. That supports what I've been thinking about. So, what about the spells that aren’t associated with any light? Are they carried by something?”

“I don’t know, Brook. I don’t think anyone does.”

“What do you know about electromagnetic spectra, Hermione?”

“Do you mean the fact that different kinds of energy just have different wavelengths and frequencies?”

“Exactly. What if all spells are carried by electromagnetic waves, and only a portion are carried by light waves? The rest are carried by other electromagnetic frequencies, like radio waves or microwaves, and we just can’t detect it with our senses. And there is something inherent in each type of spell that determines which electromagnetic frequency it can be carried by. Sort of like the wave-particle duality of the electromagnetic spectrum. The spell is like a particle that is surfing along the electromagnetic wave.”

She paused as she considered his idea. “That might just explain it, Brook. There are some spells that have a secondary effect of heating as well as the primary result, which could be explained by the spell being carried infrared waves.” She paused again, obviously thinking about what Brook had suggested. After about thirty seconds, her face brightened into a wide smile. “Wow, you may have just conceived of a theory that explains how magic actually works. This is absolutely brilliant!”

“I just had another thought. Hermione, we all know that Muggle electronic devices don’t work here at Hogwarts. I wonder if the magical wards that are in place block it somehow. You know the way that, if you turn on a blow dryer or a vacuum while watching television, the picture gets all snowy? I wonder if this might also explain why Muggle electronic devices don’t work in the Wizarding world. Perhaps the magic’s inherent electromagnetic frequency is enough to disrupt the normal workings of the electronics. We might be able to shield Muggle devices to make them work correctly if that is what is happening.”

“You may be right. The best person to talk about this would be Professor Flitwick, since he is Head of Ravenclaw and has the best knowledge of theory behind spells. Let’s go see him, Brook!” She stood up, grabbed his hand, but Brook resisted.

“Maybe another time, Hermione. I need to finish this essay tonight.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, I get over-excited sometimes.” Then, a mischievous grin came on her face. “Perhaps you could add this theory to your essay.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To irritate Snape. There is no way that Snape understands all of this because he hates anything to do with Muggles. If you write everything you know about the electromagnetic spectrum and throw in a little basic quantum mechanics, like Planck’s constant, frequency, and wavelength, even if it is just a bunch of gibberish, there is no way that he’ll be able to follow it. You can make him blow his top and he won’t be able to say a thing because it will be obvious that you know more about it than he does.”

“I like the way you think, Granger.”

“I think I might be spending too much time with Ron and Ginny’s brothers.”

“Those are the twins that run the joke shop that I saw at Diagon Alley, right?”

“Right. They can be a bad influence. Just don’t let Ron know that I am helping you prank Snape; I can’t let my reputation as a goody two shoes be tarnished.”

“It will be our secret.” The two then snickered simultaneously.

Ron came over at that moment and plopped down next to Hermione, giving her a peck on the cheek. “Not making time with my girl, are you Pelton?” he said with a grin.

“No worries there, Ron. I can tell she is very taken with you,” replied Brook.

“Where were you taking Brook earlier?” asked Ron.

“We were going to talk to Professor Flitwick. We were discussing the spell color and the electromagnetic spectrum, and Brook had some fascinating ideas,” said Hermione.

“Not that again! Brook, don’t get her started on that or you’ll never get her to shut up!”

“How about we make a deal. I promise to stop talking about electromagnetic spectra for 24 hours and you have to not mention Quidditch for the same period,” suggested Hermione, that mischievous grin appearing again on her face.

Ron went white and spluttered for a moment. Then, with his face downcast, he said, “Okay, I get your point. I won’t bother you about the things you are interested in and I’ll try to cut down on my Quidditch talk.”

“That deserves a reward,” said Hermione as she threw her arms around Ron’s neck and gave him a hug. As she looked over Ron’s shoulder, she winked at Brook and he mouthed to her, “Twins again?” to which she nodded subtly.

They sat there and whispered to each other while Brook went back to his essay. A few minutes later, he heard a crash from the other side of the room and looked up to see a very embarrassed first year standing near a vase shattered on the ground at her feet. She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

Hermione jumped up and put her arm around the younger girl and comforted her. “What happened?”

“I was working on the Levitation Charm, and I had lifted the vase in the air, but then I lost control and it broke,” she said between sobs.

“Now, now, that’s okay. This is easy enough to fix. Reparo!” she said as she pointed her wand at the vase. The pieces of the vase came back together until it was fully repaired. “See, good as new. Now, show me what you were doing and I’ll see if I can help you. But let’s try it on that pillow; it can’t break as easily.”

The first year timidly pointed her wand at the pillow and said “Wingardium leviosa.” The pillow rose up in the air a little, but then fell back to the couch after a few seconds.

“You’ve almost got it; you just need to say the middle syllable nice and long. Say it like this, Wing-gar-dium levi-o-sa.”

When the first year did as Hermione instructed, the pillow flew up in the air and she could control it without any trouble. “Thank you so much, Miss Hermione!”

“You are welcome,” replied Hermione with a smile on her face. She walked back to Ron and Brook and sat back down.

“Brings back old times, doesn’t it?” asked Ron, causing Hermione to giggle.

“Sounds like there is a story there,” said Brook. “C’mon, tell me.”

“Well, back in our first year, I was being a complete prat,” began Ron. “We were learning the Levitation Charm, and I couldn’t get it, while Hermione did it right away. Her feather was flying all over the room while mine wouldn’t even budge. I was making the same mistake as that first year was. Hermione tried to help me, but I wouldn’t listen to her because of my ego. I certainly wasn’t going to let a girl show me up. Anyway, while we were walking back to the common room after class, I was complaining to Neville how much of a know-it-all Hermione was . . .”

“And I really was a pain at that age,” interjected Hermione. “I had an inferiority complex because I was a Muggle and wanted to prove to everyone I could do anything they could.”

“You weren’t that bad; I just was immature and couldn’t handle being bested by a girl. Hermione overheard me calling her a know-it-all and that that was the reason she didn’t have any friends. She was really upset and ran off.”

“I went to a bathroom in the dungeons and just cried the rest of the day. While Ron’s words weren’t kind, I knew what he said was true, and it really hit home for me. I had never had many friends before, but here I was in this strange world and no one liked me.”

“That day was the Halloween feast,” Ron continued. “Hermione was still in the bathroom. I knew that because I had overheard one of the older girls complaining that some first year had locked herself in the bathroom in the dungeons and was crying. I was feeling really guilty, knowing my comments had upset her, and was figuring out how I was going to apologize when Professor Quirrell came in screaming about a troll in the dungeons." Trolls? thought Brook. I wonder if they hide under bridges and eat goats? "As everyone was told to go back to their dorms, I realized that Hermione was down there with the troll and it was entirely my fault. So, Neville and I ran down to the bathroom, only to find the troll trying to hit Hermione with his club. After a few unsuccessful attempts to save her, I tried Wingardium leviosa on his club, using her pronunciation, and it worked. Then I released the charm and club came down on the troll’s head and knocked it out.”

“My hero,” Hermione said, turning her head and looking up at Ron, batting her eyelashes.

Ron rolled his eyes and continued, “That was a really important event in our relationship. We’ve been best friends ever since. Looking back, I think that was the first time I realized I had feelings for her. My eleven year old brain just didn’t know what to do with those feelings. Too bad it took me so long to figure it out. We wasted a lot of time, rowing all the time over these years.”

Hermione kissed Ron on the cheek and said, “I think that’s when I fell for you too. I was just waiting for you to realize it.” She kissed him again, this time on the lips and then sat down on his lap.

As things started to get more passionate, Brook decided it was time to make a quiet escape. However, as he was getting up he dropped one of his books on the ground with a loud thud. As he picked it up he looked over at Ron and Hermione, worried that he might disturb them.

They didn’t even pause in their snogging; as far as they were concerned, the rest of the world didn’t exist. So, Brook went up to his dorm to read some more.

**********

As the school year progressed, Brook gained confidence in his magical abilities. While at the beginning of the year, he had been slightly behind his classmates, he felt he was on even footing in Charms and was even surpassing most of the sixth years in Transfiguration. His classmates helped him a lot when he wasn’t picking up on something quickly. And he found himself absorbed into study groups, Ron, Hermione, and Neville for his seventh year classes and Ginny and Colin Crevey for Transfiguration.

Studying with Ginny and Colin did cause a problem though. Unfortunately, as he spent more time with her, he became even more attracted to her. He appreciated her patience with his lack of magical background and had a real talent for explaining how she accomplished the complex transfigurations they were required to do in class. Colin and Ron had difficulty discussing the processes they used. “I just want it to happen and it does,” they both would say. Hermione, on the other hand tended to over-discuss and Brook would either become lost or bored with her explanations. She also enjoyed Ginny's sense of humor, her quick wit, and her often mischievous grins. She was much less of a task master than Hermione, but they still managed to get the work done. And of course, the fact that she was gorgeous didn’t help either. As the weeks passed, he found his eyes enticed to find her wherever she was, whether in the common room, the Great Hall, or in the hallways between classes, and it was not uncommon to catch himself staring at her and have to force himself to look elsewhere.

His fascination with Ginny was also affecting his sleep. He continued to have that strange dream where they met in the night and agreed to end this, whatever “this” was. After the dream, he would often find himself staring at the canopy over his bed trying to figure out what it meant. He also would review his past dreams of the red haired girl as he was growing up. Could I have been dreaming of Ginny all my life? Her current appearance certainly matched my dreams over the last year or so. The dreams of her going to school in what he thought was a museum could certainly have been Hogwarts, and some of the odd occurrences that he thought could only occur in dreams actually could have been magic. He had always thought the clothes she wore while sitting in classes were odd, but now he realized that they were robes, just like he now wore during the day. He didn’t understand how the girl could have been Ginny, but he didn’t have any other explanation. He had attempted to ask Hermione if this kind of thing was common in the magical world, but he was so vague, not wanting to reveal the whole truth, that he was sure that she didn’t understand exactly what he was asking.

While Transfiguration and Charms were going well, Defence was another story; Snape continued to come up with any excuse to pick on Brook and take points away from his house. It didn’t help that the Slytherins were taking great enjoyment whenever this occurred. How he was doing in the class compared to his classmates was hard to assess as most of what they were expected to do was feet and feet of essays and little practical work. The Gryffindors had been grumbling more and more about Defence, except Hermione who loved the research required for the assignments. They even went to Professor McGonagall for relief, but she told them there was nothing she could do.

This was the topic late one night as the seventh years were gathered in a corner of the common room; while they agreed that they were learning a lot of “book knowledge” which would help on the written portion of the NEWT, they were all concerned with the practical portion. “Maybe ‘tis time to resurrect the DA,” suggested Seamus. The idea was greeted with several nods from his classmates.

“DA? What’s that?” asked Brook.

Hermione explained, “During our fifth year, we had this horrible Defence teacher from the Ministry named Dolores Umbridge. She only taught theory, although teaching was a bit of a stretch. Her classes were spent just reading the text book and we did not practice spells at all. She said that if we studied the theory hard enough, there was no reason that we couldn’t perform the necessary spells on our OWLs. Because of this, we decided to form an unofficial study group which we named Dumbledore’s Army, or DA for short. We would get together secretly and practice Defence spells and dueling drills. By the end of the year, everyone in the DA received an ‘O’ on the practical portion of Defence, and no one that wasn’t in the DA received better than an ‘A.’ Because of the poor performance of many of the students, last year’s Defence professor was more lenient in letting students into the NEWT level class.”

“Who taught it?” asked Brook.

Neville piped up, “Ron and Hermione did most of the work, but Ginny helped some. Hermione would do the research on the spells and Ron would practice on his own until he could teach them. They did an excellent job. I can’t imagine all the extra hours they had to put in.”

Ron and Hermione both blushed. “Everyone contributed and pulled together. It really was a team effort.”

“Did I hear my name? What are you blokes talking about so quietly? A prank? Count me in.” asked Ginny as she plopped herself next to Dean and pecked him on the cheek, causing Brook to wince to himself.

The group chuckled at Ginny’s readiness to pull a prank. “No, we’re talking about bringing back the DA, Ginny,” said Ron. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea. While we’re not getting nearly as much work as you seventh years, we still aren’t doing much in the way of spellwork. I feel like I am getting rusty.”

“Where did you meet since you had to keep it a secret?” asked Brook.

“There is a room on the seventh floor that we called the ‘Room of Requirement.’ Why don’t we take a stroll and show Brook,” suggested Ron.

To avoid suspicion, they left in groups of twos or threes and agreed to take different routes. Brook had hoped that Ginny would show him the way, but Dean grabbed her hand before he had a chance to ask her. Lavender Brown volunteered to guide Brook. As they left the portrait hole, Lavender put her arm through Brook’s and pulled him to the left. It was obvious that Lavender was interested in Brook. She had been sitting next to him in class as much as possible, asking to be his partner when it was required. Brook tried to be polite, and, though it was flattering, he wasn’t really attracted to the pretty witch. After many twists and turns, Brook and Lavender arrived at a hallway where the rest of the seventh year Gryffindors, along with Ginny and Colin Crevey, were waiting. On one wall was an odd tapestry that depicted a wizard teaching a bunch of trolls how to do ballet. It was a disturbing scene, because no one should have to see a troll in a pink tutu. The other wall was just stone. When everyone had arrived, Ron explained, “All you have to do is walk back and forth in front of the tapestry three times thinking of what you need the room to be and then a door will appear. Here, I’ll demonstrate.” He paced back and forth a few times and then, suddenly a door appeared in the blank stone wall. He walked over and opened the door, saying “Voila.”

They all walked in and as Brook entered, he was amazed at what he saw. A large room that was mostly empty, but had cushioned walls and various equipment around the edges. “This is great. You mean, this room can be anything you want it to be?” asked Brook.

“Exactly,” said Hermione. “We’ve used it as a study area when the library is too busy or sometimes as a second common room when we needed to get away from everyone else.”

“While this is the perfect place to meet, there is one problem,” Ron said. “I don’t think I can lead the DA this year. First, with all my duties as Head Boy and Quidditch captain, I am busy enough. Second, I don’t think I have enough skills to do it either. I think Hermione and I went as far as we could without a real Defence teacher last time. There is only so much that we can learn without someone with experience helping us. Any other suggestions?”

As everyone was thinking, Brook had an idea. Perhaps I could ask Remus. As he had spent more time with the former Defence professor, they had developed a close relationship. He also had heard about some pranks that he had played with his friends while he was at Hogwarts, so he knew Remus had a mischievous streak and didn’t mind bending the rules if necessary. “I might have someone who could help, but I’ll have to ask him first.”

“Who do you have in mind,” asked Hermione.

“My tutor,” replied Brook. He didn’t reveal Remus’ identity as he had been asked to keep it a secret. Remus had told him that no one else should know he was coming to the school because there were still some parents that were upset that Dumbledore had let a werewolf in the school. “I’ll ask him next time we meet.”

“Okay, until then perhaps we can still meet and practice some of the skills we learned last year. We should probably get back; Hermione and I have to do rounds,” said Ron.

“One other question: who should we let be in the DA? You remember what happened last time.” asked Parvati.

“What happened last time?” asked Brook.

“Arguably, we let too many people in and there were some people who were argumentative and didn’t necessarily believe in the same things the core group did. There was also one member who eventually ratted us out to Umbridge. Fortunately most of us were able to escape before we got caught. Those of us who did get caught were let off the hook when Dumbledore took the blame for leading the group and then escaped before the Aurors could take him to the Ministry. But then he returned and Umbridge was tossed out on her behind, so everything came out fine,” explained Hermione.

“I think we should pick and choose more carefully this time. Who do you suggest?” Ron asked the group

“How about my brother Dennis?” asked Colin.

“Luna and Padma are a must,” said Parvati

Other names were thrown out, but Brook didn’t hear as he thought about Luna Lovegood. While he liked her quirky personality and her lack of filter between her brain and mouth was often good for a laugh, he found that he tended to avoid her if at all possible because she knew his secret, at least she knew what he really looked like. He had no idea if she knew who he was. Unfortunately she was in his Transfiguration class, so he saw her there twice a week. It was not uncommon for her to walk past him at his desk and whisper something in his ear like, “You look better with black hair,” or “I love your green eyes.” It made him uncomfortable that she knew what he really looked like, and, since she often said things without seeming to think, he wondered when she might let something slip. He had attempted to ask some vague questions about her without causing any suspicions, and his friends had said that she could be trusted. There wasn’t anything he could do about it, so he tried not to think about it much. He couldn’t suggest that she not be let in the new DA without a good reason, so he let it drop.

A list of potential members was made and they decided that it was time to leave as Ron and Hermione had to start patrols soon. They left separately, pairing off again. Lavender was taking a very circuitous path, and before long Brook was all turned around and had no idea where they were. Before he knew it, they were in front of the troll ballet tapestry again. Lavender said, “Hermione didn’t mention all of the possible uses of the Room. Let me show you another,” with a suggestive smile on her face. After she had walked back and forth, the door appeared and she led him in. Brook found a cozy little room with a comfortable looking couch, a bearskin rug, and a roaring fire in a huge fireplace. “Come, let’s sit down and talk a little. I would like to get to know you a little better.”

Lavender led him over to the couch and while he sat down, she removed her robe, revealing a tight sweater that probably had one too few buttons fastened. She asked, “Tell me about your life in America.”

Brook, to keep his mind off her assets, told her about his family, school, his hobbies, and his interests. Flying airplanes took a little explanation, but she was really lost when he tried to explain the game of baseball. “I guess if you think about it, it is pretty confusing and strange. You really wonder how they came up with all these rules,” he chuckled. “But then again, I had difficulty learning all the rules for Quidditch, so Muggles don’t have a monopoly on strange sports." He did find Lavender easy to talk to, but he found that she giggled a little too easily.

She then proceeded to tell Brook about growing up with two magical parents. While she was a pure-blood, she didn’t share the beliefs of the pure-bloods in Slytherin. After a while, Brook said, “We really should be getting back. We don’t want to get caught out after curfew by Hermione and Ron.”

“Do we really have to? As long as the Room is occupied, no one else can come in. I was hoping to get to know you even better.” Before he knew it, Lavender had leaned in and their lips met. After a momentary shock, he returned the kiss and their arms circled each other. Brook began losing himself in the passion, but when he closed his eyes, the face that he wanted to be kissing was not Lavender’s but covered in freckles and framed in scarlet tresses. When he realized this, he pulled back with a gasp. Lavender looked a little surprised. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I am sorry, Lavender, but this isn’t right. You are a really nice girl and I have enjoyed our time together, but I think we should just stay friends.”

“Why? Don’t you find me attractive? You seemed to be enjoying yourself just now,” she said with smirk.

“No, I find you very attractive. But, to be frank, there is someone else that I like. Even when we were kissing, I pictured her face. I am really sorry, but it wouldn’t be fair to you if I am thinking of her when we are together.”

“Who is it? Some girl back in America?”

“No, she’s here at Hogwarts but I’d rather not say who. You see, she already has a boyfriend and she seems happy. I don’t want things to be awkward between us if it would get back to her.”

“I understand. I think I know who it is; I’ve seen you studying together. Maybe I can do something to help your relationship along.”

Brook panicked a little. He had thought he was hiding his feelings for Ginny well. “No, please don’t. I am fine with things as they are. As I said, she’s happy and I don’t want to mess that up.”

“Okay. We better get going. I don’t mind getting caught after curfew for snogging, but it’s not worth a detention for just talking. No offense.”

“None taken. Thanks for being understanding, Lavender. It means a lot to me.” As they walked back, Brook wondered if Lavender would indeed keep this a secret; he had heard that she was a little bit of a gossip. He looked down at her and she was deep in thought, like she was planning something.

**********

The next morning Brook was getting up early for his regular run. He missed working out regularly, but he did run a couple laps around the lake three or four mornings a week. Ron occasionally joined him, but most of the time chose to lie in. He threw a pillow at Ron and asked if he was coming today and Ron grunted something that possibly sounded like a yes before he started staggering to the bathroom. After they both dressed, they went outside on an absolutely beautiful fall morning; the sky was a brilliant blue and the air was crisp. Early in their first lap, Brook had an idea.

“Ron, you said last night that the Room of Requirement can turn into anything you want it to, right?” He didn’t share that he had seen evidence of exactly that when he and Lavender had returned there.

“Yeah, all you have to do is think about what you need, and you get it. Sometimes it takes a little trial and error, but it seems to be able to see exactly what you are picturing. Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking as I was getting ready this morning how much I miss other types of exercising besides running, and that perhaps I could have the Room make a workout room for me.”

“I don’t know any reason why it wouldn’t work. You want to go up and try it after we finish this lap?"

“Sounds great.”

After they finished the lap, they returned to the castle and headed for the seventh floor. “So what kinds of things do you do other than running?”

“Lifting weights, plyometrics, physioballs, medicine balls, rubber bands, all sorts of stuff.”

“I have no idea what any of those things are. Exercising just doesn’t sound that fun unless you are playing a game or competing.”

“Well, you’ll have to give it a try.”

When they arrived outside the Room, Brook pictured in his mind a well-equipped gym, and paced back and forth, thinking, I need a room to workout in. I need a room to workout in. I need a room to workout in.

The door appeared in the wall and Ron and he walked in. It was exactly what Brook had pictured. On one half of the room was a number of weight machines. On the other side were a variety of physioballs, medicine balls, dumbbells, rubber cords, a few treadmills, and some exercise bikes. One of the walls was mirrored so you could watch yourself for proper form.

“Wow, that’s a lot of stuff. And you use all of this to work out? Do you think this could help my Quidditch?” asked Ron.

“Yep. Let me show you the weight machines today. Then I can show you more each day until you figure out what you like to use.”

“Maybe I can get the whole team in here and the other teams won’t know what hit them!” Ron said, starting to get excited.

**********

Later that day, Brook and Hermione stayed after Charms class to discuss Brook’s idea with Professor Flitwick. While it took a while to bring the diminutive professor up to speed on electromagnetic wave theory, he was excited about Brook’s insights and asked him to write a summary of his thoughts so that the professor could forward it to a former student who was an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries for review. So, Brook was busy for the next week, with homework, Quidditch, and now this new assignment, but, with Hermione’s help, he was able to turn in his theory one week later.

A/N: I realize that Snape wasn't as bad as Umbridge as a Defence professor, but I needed a device to restart the DA and introduce Brook to the Room of Requirement, so I took some poetic license. I like to think that that is my prerogative, since it is my story. Thanks for the positive reviews. I will continue to try to update at least once a week.

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Chapter 11: The Interpretation of Dreams

The Interpretation of Dreams

Brook came down to the common room, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He had had another nightmare and knew he was done sleeping for the night. He was glad that he could place Silencio around his bed, not just for the snores of his dorm mates, but also because he didn’t want to wake them with his screams. It was not uncommon for him to come down to the common room after one of these nightmares and watch the fire or study. As a matter of fact, it occurred at least once a week. He liked the common room in the middle of the night for it reminded him of his family room at home. During the winter, his parents and he would light the fire, and snuggle up in a quilt, just enjoying the chance to sit and do nothing. Even though the common room reminded him of his parents, it comforted him and gave him some peace, especially after one of the car wreck dreams.

The common room was dark as it usually was in the middle of the night, with just a dying fire to light it. As he sat down, the couch was lumpier than usual, and came to the realization that he was sitting on someone, not the couch. He looked down and said, “Ginny, I am so sorry! I didn’t see you there.”

“That’s okay; you can sit in my lap anytime. Just don’t let Dean see you,” she said jokingly, but Brook could tell that her heart wasn’t in it.

“Are you alright, Ginny?”

“I just had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep. When that happens, I like coming down here to be alone and stare at the fire.”

“I thought I was the only one who did that.”

“So, you had a nightmare too? About your parents’ accident? You’ve mentioned before about having that dream.”

“Yeah, that‘s the one I have most often, but it was a different one tonight.”

“Would you like to tell me about it? Sometimes it helps to talk to someone.”

Brook hesitated for a moment before giving in to her request. “It’s a weird dream. I have no idea what it means. I've had this dream as long as I can remember, but I get it more frequently since coming to Hogwarts, at least once a week. I hear a woman screaming. Sometimes I can make out what she is saying, other times I can’t. When I can understand it she says, ‘No! Not him! Please no, take me, kill me instead!’ Then I see what I now realize is a spell being cast, but the woman who is screaming blocks my view of who is casting it. The whole room turns green and she falls. I then see the wizard who cast the spell in a dark cloak; I never see his face. He points his wand at me and I see the green light again, and then I wake up, my heart racing and all sweaty. I have no idea what it means or why I am so scared. I am sure Freud would have a field day with that one.”

“Freud? Who’s that?”

“He’s a Muggle psychiatrist . . . “ he stopped when he saw another look of confusion on her face. “Sort of a mind healer. Anyway he was famous for interpreting dreams.”

“You mean like someone interpreting a seer’s prophecy?”

“Maybe a little bit. But in his opinion, almost all dreams had sexual implications. I always thought he was a little perverted.”

“Well, I can’t see any sexual interpretations to your dream, but who knows. I don’t have a better answer.”

“What about your dream; any sex involved?” he asked teasingly, nudging her with his shoulder.

“No, the meaning of my nightmare is quite clear,” she answered quietly.

“I’m sorry, Ginny. I didn’t mean to make light of it. Care to talk about it? Some wise person once told me that sometimes it helps to talk to someone.”

“Prat!” she said, slapping him lightly on the arm with a smile. Her face darkened again and she bit her lower lip, obviously considering whether to proceed. “I don’t know. It’s pretty personal. It’s embarrassing and humiliating.”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I don’t want to intrude.”

“No, you’re right; it might help to tell someone. But I want to prepare you, it’s not pretty.”

“Don't worry about that; if I can help you, I want to try. Whenever you’re ready.”

She took a deep breath and then started. “Well, the nightmare concerns what happened to me my first year at Hogwarts. Someone hid a magical diary in my books. Whenever I wrote in it, my words would disappear, and then the diary would write back. The person in the diary said his name was Tom and that he had been a Hogwarts student many years before and that he had enchanted the diary to carry a part of his personality so that he could talk to me. As the year went on, I wrote in it almost daily. I poured my most inner secrets and desires into it. But it turned out that Tom was an evil wizard who would later become the most feared wizard of our time, Voldemort.” Brook fought back the urge to gasp, not because of the use of the name, but learning that Voldemort had affected Ginny as well. “During the year, I started losing weight, not eating or sleeping, and then I started having blackouts. He used the diary to possess me and the blackouts were when he completely controlled me. It was really scary coming to and having no idea how I got there, or why I was all wet. One time I was covered in blood and feathers.”

“Blood and feathers?”

“That makes a little more sense when I tell you the other part of it. At the same time, there were mysterious attacks upon Muggle-born students. They would be found petrified, like rock, but still alive. Hermione and Colin were two of the students attacked. Tom was using me to open a hidden part of the castle called the Chamber of Secrets. In the Chamber was hidden a creature called a basilisk, a type of giant snake that could kill with just a look. The students who were attacked were lucky because they never looked directly at the basilisk. Instead, Colin, for instance, looked at it through a camera, and Hermione looked at it in a mirror, so they were just petrified. That is where the blood and feathers comes in. One of the few things that can kill a basilisk is the crowing of a rooster. So, one time when Tom possessed me, he made me go down to Hagrid’s and kill all of the roosters. Because of my strange behavior, Ron started following me and one night he tracked me when Tom possessed me. He trailed me to a girls’ loo on the second floor and watched me open the Chamber. To open it, you had to speak Parseltongue, or snake language. When he saw me open the Chamber, he ran to get Dumbledore. When he came back with Dumbledore, he had heard me well enough to imitate the sounds and the Chamber opened. To make a long story short, too late, I know, they went down into the Chamber and saved me and destroyed the diary. If it wasn’t for them, I would have died. I felt so ashamed and weak. Dumbledore said that many adults had been tricked and used by Voldemort; he said that even Tom was surprised at how long I held out. But I couldn’t help feel humiliated. I was responsible for all those students being attacked, and if not for dumb luck, I could have killed them. It took me a long time to get over it, and most of time I can put it behind me, but whenever I have this nightmare, it just all comes flooding back and I’m that small, silly girl again.” She put her face down into her hands and started sobbing.

Brook went closer to her and pulled her petite frame into a hug, held and rocked her, saying, “There, there, Ginny.” As he continued to rock her, she relaxed and started to calm down.

Eventually, she sniffed, wiped at her tears, and looked up at Brook. “Dumbledore kept my involvement a secret from the rest of the school, so very few people know what I did. I'm always afraid that they might judge me and think less of me if they found out. I would really appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone. I hope you won't let this affect our relationship. I don't want to lose you as a friend.”

Brook, shocked at what she said, at first didn’t know how to respond. “I’d never think less of you, Ginny. Remember what Dumbledore said; lots of wizards have been taken in by Voldemort.” He pulled back a little, held her chin in his hand, looked her straight in the eye, and said, “Now, hear me, Ginny Weasley, don’t beat yourself up about this. You shouldn’t be ashamed by something you did when you were a little girl. You are almost a grown woman now, and all of us have done things we are not proud of as children.”

That got Ginny giggling and she couldn’t stop. “What is so funny?”

Between giggles, she was able to get out, “You sounded like my mum so much, I would have thought you were her, but you’ve only met her the one time.”

“Well, it sounds like I need to get to know her better; I think I might like her.”

“Maybe we can arrange that.” There was a short pause and then Ginny put her head down into Brook’s shoulder again and just snuggled in. She let out a little contented sigh as Brook pulled a blanket up around them and pulled her in tighter. As he held her, Brook thought back to his nightmares when he was twelve concerning the red haired girl. If those dreams really were Ginny, the timing of the nightmares when he was twelve would have been right. This is getting weirder and weirder. It's seeming more and more likely that I have actually been dreaming events in Ginny’s life. His mind kept reviewing what he remembered of those dreams until he finally relaxed and fell asleep while holding her.

Brook was awakened when the sunlight started coming through the window, signaling morning. He was a little confused when he realized that he wasn’t in his bed and then remembered the events of last night and realized that Ginny and he must have laid down on the couch together sometime in the night. He looked down and saw that she was lying on his chest with her arms around him and a contented smile on her face. He reveled in the closeness for a few moments, wishing this could last longer than just one night, but listened to his conscience and decided they needed to get up. He shook her gently, “Ginny, it’s morning and you need to wake up. We don’t need anyone finding us like this and giving us detention.”

Ginny slowly awoke, stretching and smiling at Brook. “You’re right, especially a certain Head Boy, who would rend you limb from limb if he caught you sleeping with his little sister,” adding a wink. “Not to mention what Dean might do. He does have a tendency to get jealous. I'm willing to keep this between the two of us if you will.”

As she got up and started to walk toward the girls’ stairway, she looked back and said, “Thank you, Brook. That’s the best night sleep I’ve ever had after a nightmare.”

Too quietly for her to hear, Brook responded, “Me too, Ginny, me too.”

***********

The next few days were busy as they had Quidditch practice every evening. The first match of the year, against Slytherin was that Saturday and Ron was really pushing them hard. Ginny said that he was channeling his inner Wood, which made the other team members laugh, but Brook didn’t get the joke. A couple of times, as he was supposed to be looking for the Snitch, he found himself staring at Ginny as she flew with abandon around the pitch. But then he would see her pass to Dean, and that would break his reverie. After practices, Ginny and Dean would walk back to the castle together, sometimes his arm around her, congratulating her for a good practice. He would walk behind them, not paying attention to whatever Ron was saying about strategies and such, wishing it was his arm and not Dean’s that was around her.

One evening, shortly before curfew, Ron, Hermione, and Brook had been studying Charms for several hours when Ron leaned back, stretched, and said, “All this studying has made me hungry. Fancy a trip to the kitchens?”

“When aren’t you hungry?” asked Hermione. Brook heard a little snort on the other side of the room and noticed Ginny with her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. When their eyes met, Ginny winked at Brook before turning back to her book.

Those days, Ginny gave Brook quite a few smiles, which he returned, but he felt guilty about what had happened. I slept with my roommate’s girlfriend!. Well, not slept with, (although with guilt he admitted those thoughts were crossing his mind) but fell asleep with. He had to keep reminding himself to keep his distance, despite the fact that he wanted to go over to her and hold her like he had that night. Then, he found himself taking different ways to class just to see her or studying in the library when he knew she would be there. At times, he felt like a stalker and felt guilty again, but most of the time, he couldn’t help himself, sneaking quick glances at her in the common room, or down the table at meals. It was really starting to be a problem during Transfiguration. He sat behind her in class, and he found that he was having a hard time concentrating on Professor McGonagall’s lectures. Every time the Professor would start to speak, he was drawn to Ginny’s hair, how it wasn’t just red, but it had orange, copper, and gold highlights. He was fascinated by how it would look differently in bright sunlight coming in the windows or from the candlelight if it was a dark cloudy day. He was transfixed by the way it would move when she turned or lifted her head. He wanted to run his hands through it, feeling the silky softness of it. He was close enough to smell her shampoo, and the subtle aroma of flowers was intoxicating. Then, after studying her hair, his eyes moved down to her back, and then they would travel further down, and even in her robes, he would imagine her cute bum, but then he would stop himself, knowing that what he was thinking was wrong and try to pay attention to the lecture for a few minutes before becoming distracted again. He had even lost House points once for not paying attention in class.

“You coming, Brook?” asked Ron, bringing Brook out of his thoughts.

“Um, sure. How do we get to the kitchens? I never found them when I was exploring the castle this summer.”

“You just have to know how to get in. The twins taught us lots of hidden parts of the castle while they were here.” The trio walked toward the Great Hall, but then took a staircase that Brook guessed led them directly below it. They reached what looked like a dead end (Brook knew that appearances can be deceiving) with a large painting of a bowl of fruit. Ron reached up and seemed to be tickling the pear. Brook was about to ask what he was doing when the pear giggled and squirmed before a green doorknob appeared. Ron then pulled on the knob, revealing a large kitchen, filled with cauldrons and ovens.

But Brook was taken aback when he saw numerous small creatures scurrying around, doing various kitchen duties such as baking, stirring cauldrons, and washing dishes. The creatures were all between two and three feet tall, had large heads with bat-like ears and eyes the size of tennis balls. He also noticed that when these creatures spotted the students, they all tended to avoid them. “What are those?” whispered Brook.

“These are Hogwarts’ house-elves,” said Hermione, in an obviously perturbed mood. “How do you think all of the cooking, cleaning, and laundry gets done around here? Magic?!” She practically spat out the words.

“What do you have against house-elves, Hermione?” asked Brook.

She let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t have anything against the house-elves, but their situation. You see, they are powerful magical beings and can do some things that even wizards and witches cannot, but they are magically bound to serve their masters and have no freedoms. They live an existence that is basically slavery and it’s not right that it is allowed!”

“Now, you’ve done it, mate. You’ll never get her to stop talking about it now,” muttered Ron.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at Ron and then turned back to Brook and continued. “While the Magical community has so many positives, sometimes it is absolutely medieval. This is just one example. At least the house-elves here at Hogwarts are treated well. Many of the older families have house elves and they are treated abominably! They are abused, physically and verbally, and considered as nothing more than property. If I ever get a chance, I am going to try to make their lives better and work to outlaw this practice.”

Ron added, “Hermione’s been on this cause since fourth year when she first learned of their existence. She even formed a club called the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, or SPEW for short."

"That's S.P.E.W. and you know it, Ronald!"

"Sorry, 'Mione," he said with a little wink to Brook. "Anyway, she tried to free them by leaving knitted clothes for them in the common room, but that only resulted in them refusing to clean it. Boy, did it get messy quickly.”

“That only shows how spoiled we all are. If the students just picked up after themselves and didn’t leave food all over the place, it wouldn’t have been so bad.”

“You lost me there, Ron,” stated Brook. “How would leaving clothes free the elves?”

Hermione interjected, “If a house-elf receives clothes from a master, then he or she is freed and may then go out and earn a living instead of being enslaved.”

“What Hermione doesn’t seem to understand that the house-elves don’t want to be freed. They genuinely seem to enjoy serving their masters. That’s why they refused to clean the common room; they didn’t want to be free.”

“That’s only because they don’t know any better.”

“If you say so, ‘Mione.”

While the couple was arguing, one of the house-elves cautiously approached. “Ahem. Master Wheezy, Miss Granger, Master Po . . . er Pelton. Is there something we can be doing for you?” The house-elf only stopped calling Brook by his real name when Brook was shaking his head and waving his arms behind Ron and Hermione.

“Yes, Joppy. We would like some pumpkin juice and some crisps, please.” Ron turned to his friends and whispered, “I just wish they would get my name right.” The three students sat at a small table, enjoying their snack, but Brook did notice that Hermione snuck some suspicious glances at him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

**********

The night before the Quidditch match, Hermione and Brook were reviewing Charms. “Now, what’s the difference between Aguamenti and Aqua Erecto?” asked Brook.

Aguamenti is more for shooting water a short distance while Aqua Erecto directs a focused stream of water for greater distances,” replied Hermione. “Here, let me demonstrate. You go over to that window and open it and look out while I do the same to this window.” They went and opened adjacent windows and leaned out a little. “This is Aguamenti.” She said the spell and water came out of the tip of her wand, travelling 2-3 feet before losing strength and falling to the ground. “This is Aqua Erecto.” This time a one inch diameter tube of water shot straight out about twenty feet before starting to bend downward. They closed the windows and sat back down.

“Thanks, Hermione. That helps a lot. Sometimes you just need to see something no matter how many times you read it in a book.”

Surprisingly, Hermione agreed, considering it had to do with pointing out a shortcoming of books.

“I have another question for you, Hermione, but it doesn’t have anything to do with class. You know the phrases that Muggle magicians use, like ‘presto chango’ and ‘hocus pocus’. Are they real spells that a wizard or witch could use?”

“No, they are just nonsense phrases.”

“What about ‘abracadabra’?”

“It’s nonsense also. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I have these nightmares in which a wizard points his wand at me and yells what sounds to me ‘abracadabra’. I figured it was just my imagination combining my Muggle upbringing and my new world, but I thought I would check.”

“After the wizard said this, was there anything else?”

“Just a flash of green light.”

“Could you be hearing, ‘Avada Kedavra’?”

He thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess that could be it.”

Avada Kedavra is also known as the Killing Curse. It is one of the three unforgivable curses. It instantly kills anyone who is hit with it. No shield can block it and there is no counter curse.”

Brook thought to himself, what does this dream mean? but gave it up after a while. They worked for a few more minutes when Brook asked another question. “I’m a little confused on the essay on protective wards for Charms. Does he want us to discuss the theory behind wards or does he want us to cover the process of making wards?”

“Actually, I think he wants us to do both. At least that is what I did. To do the ten feet that he requested, you really need to discuss both.”

“How many feet did you write?”

“Well, I did eighteen, but you know that I tend to overdo . . .” In midsentence, Hermione stopped talking and just stared off into space.

“Are you alright, Hermione?” asked Brook. When she didn’t respond, he shook her shoulder, but she still didn’t seem to know he was there. After about thirty seconds, just when he was deciding to get up and get Madam Pomfrey, she gasped and shook her head. When she came to, she was pale and looked frightened.

“What happened, Hermione? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Well, no, I guess that isn’t that big a deal, is it? Ok, you look like you’ve seen a Hungarian Horntail.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” She now looked on the verge of tears. “I’ve got to go up to my dorm; it’s getting late. Good night, Brook.” She practically ran across the common room to the stairs as she left. Brook followed her with his eyes, concerned that she was hiding something.

He saw Lavender, sitting at a table. “Lavender, could you go up and check on Hermione? She just ran out of here nearly in tears and I just want to make sure she is ok.”

She had a little twinkle in her eyes when she replied, “Sure, Brook, I can do that.” Brook paced a little while he was waiting, but when Lavender returned, she said, “Hermione is in her bed with the curtains pulled. I asked if she was okay and she said she was and she sounded alright.”

“Thanks for checking on her.” Brook decided it was time to turn in as well, but he was puzzled as to what had occurred. He fell asleep pondering Hermione’s odd behavior.

Back to index


Chapter 12: Adventures While Flying

Adventures While Flying

He awoke the next morning, feeling a little nervous, as it was the day of his first Quidditch match. He tried to talk himself out of the anxiety; after all, he had played in hundreds of baseball games and this was just another game. Unfortunately, he couldn’t convince his stomach. Instead of butterflies, Brook was convinced he had a hippogriff trying to escape from his abdomen.

Ron had the team eat breakfast together in the Great Hall, but he didn’t feel like eating much. He was just putting a slice of toast to his mouth when he was bumped from behind, causing him to drop the toast into Dean’s porridge. “You’re going to need better hands than that, Pelton, if you want to win the match today,” laughed Draco Malfoy as he walked by. “You probably think because you have a 2C, that you’ll win easily. Don’t count on it, Pelton, because you are in for a surprise.”

Malfoy had left Pelton alone for the most part, acting like he was below his notice. He of course always laughed heartily whenever Snape would take points away for nothing in Defence class, but usually he terrorized the younger students more than Brook and his friends.

Brook decided to just ignore Malfoy. He had learned from sports that, generally, the players that mouthed off the most were the ones to worry about the least. He knew that Malfoy was the Slytherin Seeker, so he would be competing directly against him, and letting emotions get in the way was not going to help. He went back to his breakfast, such as it was since he wasn’t hungry, but a few moments later a commotion could be heard at the Slytherin table. Several teams of owls flew in, two owls to a package, carrying seven long packages and dropping them on the table in front of their Quidditch team. When Brook looked over, he saw a grin of glee on Malfoy’s face as the team ripped open their packages, revealing that the whole team had just received their own Firebolt 2Cs. “I knew my father would come through!” everyone heard Draco yell. The whole house table started jumping and cheering, thinking that this was the key to their victory.

The mood at the Gryffindor table was a little quieter; well, it was actually silent. Ron’s face had gone white, and the rest of the team looked in shock. Brook could tell that they all thought that they had no chance to win. Brook whispered to Ron, “Let’s go down to the locker rooms; I think you need to say something to the team to improve their spirits.”

Ron nodded stiffly and then stood, telling the team it was time to go down to the pitch. As the team walked together in silence, Ron leaned over to Brook and asked, “What can I say? We have absolutely no chance against a whole team of 2Cs. They’re going to wipe up the pitch with us!”

Brook asked if he could say something in the locker room and Ron agreed. After they had arrived in the locker room and sat down glumly, Brook stood up. “I know none of you know much about the Muggle sport of baseball, but a similar thing happened to me last year, and I thought I would share it with you. We were playing in a tournament and, after winning our second game, we drew the top team in our area. We didn’t play them often because they were in a different league, but we knew all about them. They had won several state championships and were considered the favorite again. They lived in a rich town which meant that they had the best of everything. They had the best equipment, the best uniforms, the best locker rooms, the best field, and, quite honestly, our team was sure we were going to lose. Before the game our coach got up and told us that he was proud of us; we had worked hard all year, we never gave up, and we had gotten farther than anyone expected. He then said, 'If you are satisfied with what you have accomplished so far, then you can just go out there, get blown out by the other team, and go home happy that we had a good season. But, if you are not satisfied, if you want to go out and try to win this game, despite the odds against us, if you don’t want to throw all that work out the window, then let’s go out there and play like we have all season, with effort, and guts, and teamwork. Out on that field, it doesn’t matter what their facilities look like or that they have new uniforms; the only thing that matters is what is in here’, and he pointed to his chest. Then he walked over to me and said, ‘And what is in here,’ tapping my chest. And he went around the whole locker room, pointing at each player’s heart and saying, ‘And what is in here.’ I think we can learn from that; we have worked hard, harder than we have ever worked according to you guys. We are a team, and we can work together to win this match as a team. Remember, we are Gryffindors. And what trait is true of all Gryffindors? Courage. So, to paraphrase my coach, what matters most is not what brooms we are flying, but what is in here,” pointing to his own chest. “And what is in here,” pointing to Ron’s chest. “And what is in here,” pointing to Dean’s chest. He went around the room, pointing to each of his teammates.

Ron jumped up and said, “Brook is right. Let’s go out there and show those snakes what teamwork is all about! We’ve worked too hard to give up now! Let’s go, Gryffindor!” he yelled as he led the team out of the locker room.

A few moments later they heard the announcer say, “And here is this year’s Gryffindor team! Weasley, Weasley, Robins, Thomas, Peake, Coote, and, the lone newcomer, Pelton!” They all flew out together, flying a few laps around the pitch. The crowd was in a frenzy, three houses all cheering for the Gryffindors, while the Slytherins were booing loudly. Brook was reminded of the last time he had heard cheering like this, at his last baseball game; the day before his parents were killed. He blinked back the tears and said to himself, “This one’s for you, Mom and Dad,” looking up in the sky.

His private moment was broken when the announcer yelled, “And here are the Slytherins! Vaisey, Urqhart, Harper, Bulstrode, Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy!” Brook looked down at the entrance to the opposing team’s locker room, expecting the team to fly out. But instead he saw two unmanned brooms zoom out over the pitch until they dropped to the ground at midfield. Then, he saw another member of the team tear out over the pitch, just a few feet off the ground, before his foot caught the grass and he crashed spectacularly, rolling over and over. When he stopped he was unconscious and his left foot pointed in an unnatural direction, suggesting a fracture. Madam Pomfrey ran over to evaluate him. The other team members flew out, but they obviously could not control their brooms any better and barely were able to do a lap.

Madam Hooch whistled for the teams to assemble in the center of the pitch and while the Gryffindors did as requested, the Slytherins struggled to even hover in the correct places. She released the Bludgers and Snitch and then threw the Quaffle and signaled for the match to start. Ginny and Dean moved quickly toward the Quaffle while Demelza flew around to the outside to get in position. Jimmy and Ritchie flew after the Bludgers, while Brook flew up above all the action to scan for the Snitch. As he circled around, he watched with amusement as the Slytherins tried to keep up with the Gryffindors. I guess that saleswitch knew what she was talking about, questioning me as to whether I could handle a 2C, he thought to himself. The rout was on immediately. The Slytherins, a man down, and incapable of controlling their brooms, were unable to mount any offense or defense and the Gryffindors looked like they were playing against no one. The Beaters didn’t even bother to do much except make sure the Bludgers didn’t hit their teammates. The Chasers just flew straight at the rings, threw the Quaffle in, and then went to pick up the Quaffle again. Before he knew it, the Gryffindors were ahead 280-0. The Slytherin captain called for a timeout and asked Madam Hooch if it was permissible for the team to switch brooms in the middle of a match. Since it was allowed for broken brooms, Madam Hooch permitted it. Most of the team then went to their locker room to get their own brooms, but Brook noticed Malfoy looking up to a man in the faculty box. He was tall, had long white hair, and his face showed a look of extreme anger. Brook assumed this must be Draco’s father, since there was a distinct resemblance. Draco mouthed what looked like “Can I?”, but his father shook his head. Draco’s shoulders slumped in frustration.

The game started up again with the Slytherins actually able to play, but the Gryffindors continued to add to their lead, just not as quickly as before. Draco continued to fight with his broom, barely able to control it. When the score was 350-40, Brook finally saw the Snitch high above the pitch near the low lying clouds, and he shot toward it. Draco also saw it and started off for it as well, but, unbeknownst to Brook, as Draco accelerated, the broom flew out from underneath him. Just as he was about to grab the Snitch, Draco’s broom hit Brook, knocking him off of his own broom.

Like had occurred several times in the past few months, as Brook started to fall, everything went in slow motion. Even though he was no longer on his broom, his momentum carried him upwards enough that he was able to still grab the Snitch, ending the match. Now that duty was out of the way, he needed to figure out what to do about his falling. He did the only thing he could think of, holding his hand out toward his broom, concentrating like he had never concentrated before, and thought Accio Broom. The 2C shot toward his hand and he grabbed it as it came to him, and in one smooth motion, swung his legs over the broom and mounted it. He then saw that Draco was still falling from a great height, so he put the broom into a steep dive, catching up with Draco and grabbing him around his waist and pulling him onto the broom as well. Brook couldn’t help teasing him, saying, “You shouldn’t try to fly a broom you’re not man enough to handle, Malfoy.” This evinced a few choice swear words from Draco and a growl as they flew to the ground together. As they landed, Draco’s broom also came back to earth, shattering on the ground a few meters from them. The crowd had become very silent because of the near disaster of the two Seekers almost falling to their deaths. It was then that Brook realized that he had caught the Snitch too high for anyone to have seen it, so he raised it high above his head with a huge smile on his face. The crowd cheered and the announcer yelled, “Pelton makes a terrific catch, somehow gets back on his broom, and saves Malfoy to boot! Gryffindor wins 500-40!” As soon as he could, Malfoy got off the broom, stomped off, being chased and yelled at by his father.

His teammates were flying to him to congratulate him, but the first person to reach him was Hermione. She almost knocked him down with the force of her running hug, crying, “Brook, you’re alright! You’re alright! I’m so sorry!” Brook, confused, just hugged her back as she sobbed against his chest. The rest of the teammate reached him a few seconds later and he was enveloped in a huge group hug before being lifted up on their shoulders and carried off the pitch. They were soon joined by the rest of the Gryffindor house. He looked up in the stands and saw Professor McGonagall, who nodded to him in approval.

After the excitement died down, he sought out Hermione, who had not celebrated with the rest of the house, but had pulled back and sat in the first row of the stands, continuing to cry quietly with her face in her hands. Brook slipped away from the crowd, sat down next to her, and asked what was wrong. Again, she buried her face in his chest and sobbed inconsolably.

By the time she got herself under control, Ron and Ginny had noticed what was going on and were making their way over to them. “I’m so sorry. I should have prevented it and you wouldn’t have almost died!”

“What are you on about, Hermione?” asked Brook softly.

“Last night, when we were studying, do you remember when I looked frightened and ran up to my dorm? Well, the reason I did that was that I had a vision of you being hit by a broom and falling from a great height. I’ve always thought visions and prophecies were a bunch of bunk, so I talked myself into ignoring it. But then today I saw it happen just as I saw it last night. I’ve never had a vision before. How could I see the future like that?”

“I don’t know, but nothing bad happened and I am fine, so don’t worry yourself about it. Now, before this red headed lunk that is quickly approaching takes off my head for holding his girlfriend, I think we better sit up.”

Ron and Ginny had just arrived and Ron asked, “Oi, what is going on here?”

“It seems that my fall frightened Hermione and I was just trying to convince her that I’m okay and that she didn’t need to worry so much.” He then stood up with Hermione and pushed her in Ron’s direction so he could comfort his girlfriend.

“Oh. Well, we were all scared for a moment there,” said Ron.

“What exactly happened, Brook? How did you get back on your broom?” asked Ginny.

“I just Accioed my broom. That’s all. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Hermione instantly went into investigative mode. “Did you have your wand with you?”

“No,” Brook answered. “You know that’s against the rules.”

“Did you yell the spell?”

He thought for a moment. “No, I think I just thought it. It happened so quick I’m not sure.”

“None of us heard you say anything, but you were pretty high,” said Ginny.

“Wow, Brook. Wandless and non-verbal magic are both rare and you did both at the same time. I think you should let Professors Lupin and Dumbledore know this.”

“Why is it so rare? It’s basically like the accidental magic I was doing before I knew I was a wizard. Surely others can do it if I could without any training.”

“As we learn to control our magic, we tend to lose the ability to do magic like that. You really need to tell your professors; only a very strong wizard can do spells like that.”

“Okay, if you insist.” They slowly walked back together, rehashing the Quidditch match and enjoying their first victory over Slytherin in many years. They knew that there was a huge party starting back at the common room, but they wanted to relish the win before they were mobbed by the whole house.

**********

Despite the overwhelming victory, Ron continued to work the Quidditch team hard. Shortly after the match with Slytherin, the whole team started working out in the Room of Requirement two to three mornings a week. Ron had really enjoyed working out with Brook in the Room of Requirement and had suggested getting the whole team to come, but Brook had convinced him to wait until after the Slytherin match. Brook knew that, since none of his teammates, with the possible exception of the Muggle-born Dean, had ever done any weight training, and that they would be very sore initially and could adversely affect their performance until they got used to the workouts. Brook designed different workout routines for each position. For Ron, he had him do a lot of agility and quick responsive movements. In particular, he had Ron throw an irregularly shaped ball against the wall, which because of its shape would come off the wall at crazy angles, and try to catch it. For the Chasers, he had charmed a medicine ball to be the same shape and size as a Quaffle, but much heavier, and to have them do various drills throwing the ball back and forth between them. He had the Beaters using a weight machine attached to a pulley that allowed them to strengthen the swinging motion with their bats. And he had everyone work on core strengthening, with lots of twisting and side bending exercises. As they became stronger, he had everyone build up to doing the exercises on exercise balls to simulate sitting on a broom. He also tried to vary the workouts so that the team didn’t get bored and still were having fun, especially since the practices were all so early in the morning. It was also a good time to bond as a team, as the practices, while beneficial, still had a lot of laughter, especially when they fell off the exercise balls.

**********

“Hey Brook.” Ginny had spotted Brook sitting by himself by the lake and had come to check on him. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong?’?”

“It’s obvious that something is wrong. You’ve been brooding all weekend. You disappear for hours at a time; you sit by yourself in the Great Hall avoiding contact with anyone. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“No, not really. I just want to be alone.”

“Are you having more nightmares?”

“Yes, but actually it was a nice dream and not a nightmare that’s got me into such a funk.”

“Huh? A nice dream makes you want to pull back from everyone?”

“Let me explain. First off, I haven’t told anyone, but, before my parents died and I learned I was a wizard, I was going to attend a boarding school in Scotland this year anyway. Just a Muggle one. My parents were going to spend the year travelling Europe and visit me on the occasional weekend. Their first visit was supposed to be this weekend. We had planned for me to show them around school and meet my teachers and friends.”

“Oh. So I see why that would make you sad. How does the dream fit in?”

“On Thursday night I dreamt that my parents had actually come here to visit instead. I showed them all around the castle, introduced them to Dumbledore and the other professors, well, not Snape, but everyone else. I introduced them to you and Ron and Neville and Hermione. I showed off what I could do with magic and even took my dad flying on my broom. He loved it. And it seemed so real. When Ron woke me up Friday morning, I didn’t want to get up; I wanted to go back to sleep and spend more time with my parents. So, I went to breakfast depressed, and the day just went downhill from there. Nothing went right in class. I couldn’t manage any spells. I couldn’t even do ones I could last week.”

“Yeah, I saw you and Colin having difficulty in Transfiguration. I wasn’t surprised that he couldn’t change the small statue into a mouse, but the fact that you couldn’t either was a big surprise.”

“The rest of my classes were the same. Then yesterday and today, I’ve been either in the Room of Requirement or out here trying to do the spells, but nothing works. I don’t understand it. Perhaps I’m not as good a wizard as the rest of you. I’m starting to question whether I really belong here." He paused and then added under his breath, "Maybe I should just go back home.”

“Brook, I’ve never seen you like this. You’re normally so confident.”

“Well, maybe this is the real me," he said testily, "and I’ve just been putting on an act for you since I got here.”

“No, your magic is strong; I’ve felt it in class. You definitely belong here. I think I know what’s wrong. I have a friend who had a similar problem last year. You see, she was in love with this wizard, but for some ridiculously noble reasons, he denied his feelings for her and said they couldn’t be together. And she found that the longer she was away from him, the weaker her magic got. It deteriorated to the point that she was almost a Squib.” Noticing Brook’s confused face, she explained, “A Squib is a person born to magical parents but has no magic themselves. Anyway, she almost lost her job, and was considering leaving the Magical World. But someone convinced him that he was being stupid, stubborn, and outright absurd. They got back together, and now they are engaged and her magic is back to normal. I bet the same thing is happening to you. We just need to figure out how to get you out of the doldrums.”

“And what do you suggest? What worked for your friend?”

“I think they just shagged and made up, but for you, a good snog would probably do it.”

“Are you offering, Weasley?”

She turned as red as her hair and she sputtered. “No, I wasn’t suggesting me. But certainly there is someone you might be interested in.”

Brook looked down in his lap, trying not to give away anything. “Yes, there is. But unfortunately, she’s taken.”

“Oh. Well, what else can you do? Have you tried talking to your parents?”

“Huh? Ginny, my parents are, you know, dead.”

“I know that, but perhaps if you just talked to them like you used to, or maybe wrote them a letter, it would make you feel better. I see you writing letters to a friend back home; try writing one to your parents.”

“Okay, I’ll give it a try.”

“But you need to something more immediate. I know, let’s go flying.”

Ginny and Brook got their brooms and they spent the rest of the afternoon flying. At first they just flew lazily around the pitch, but then they started throwing the Quaffle around. After a while, they played a little tag, but then they just flew around, whirling around each other, not unlike what Brook and Hedwig did on their night-time flights over the summer. Brook eventually forgot his dream, his depression, and started enjoying himself. At one point, Brook reached out and caught Ginny’s arm and they began spinning wildly, requiring them to hold on to the other tightly or be thrown off their brooms. As they came out of the spin, hugging each other, they both threw back their heads in laughter as they soared above the pitch.

“Ginny! Ginny!” A voice called out and disturbed their merriment. Realizing that they were holding each other, they separated, both blushing red. They looked down and saw that Dean waving and trying to get their attention. Ginny flew down to him, while Brook stayed up in the air, giving the couple privacy. Unfortunately, he wasn’t far away enough and could hear Dean’s side of the conversation.

“What do you think you are doing?!”

--- Ginny responded, but Brook couldn't hear what she said.

“It didn’t look like ‘innocent fun’! We were going out six months before you let me put my hands on you like that!”

---

“I don’t care how depressed he was! I’m your boyfriend and the only person you should be flying with like that is me!”

---

“Maybe we need to think about where this relationship is going if you feel like that!” He stormed off, Ginny running after him, trying to get him to turn around and talk. As she left, Brook could see the pain on her face.

Brook slowly flew back to the ground, feeling horrible about what had happened. He certainly had never meant for things to go as far as they did; he had just forgotten himself in the bliss of the moment. The flying had indeed helped, at least temporarily. But now, in addition to missing his parents, he felt guilt for coming between Ginny and Dean. I guess that’s something else I could write my parents about.

**********

Late that evening, after almost everyone else had gone to bed, Brook was sitting in the common room, writing that letter, when the portrait opened and in stormed Dean. He looked over, saw Brook, huffed and muttered something under his breath, and headed for the stairs to the boys’ dormitories. Ginny came in a few seconds after Dean, flushed, and called, “Dean, wait!” He looked back at her, but then stomped up the stairs, letting the door slam behind him.

Ginny let out a sigh and her shoulders slumped. She then collapsed on one of the couches by the fire, looking ready to cry. Brook hesitated for a moment, but then decided he needed to do something. He arose and walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump and pull her wand.

“Ginny, relax, it’s just me.”

“Sorry, I thought I was alone.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to startle you. Good reflexes, though,” he said with a grin.

The corners of her mouth went up a little in a half-hearted attempt at a smile, but Brook could tell that her heart wasn’t in it. “Can I sit down and talk?”

“Sure.”

“Ginny, I’m sorry about this afternoon. I got lost in the moment; it was the first time in a long time that I was able to forget my parents and how much I miss them. I certainly never meant to cause a problem between you and Dean.”

“I know, Brook. I got swept up in the fun too. Dean’s just jealous of all the time we spend together, since we have Transfiguration together and we’ve been studying so much lately. Being in different years has always been a little tough for him.”

“If it would help, I could stop studying with you. I could try working with Luna.”

Ginny giggled a little. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Don’t get me wrong. Luna is brilliant, and she is very gifted at Transfiguration, but her methods are . . . let’s say, unorthodox. Our first year, she was my only acquaintance, so I tried studying with her, but it just didn’t work. While she almost always is able to do the transfiguration, when she tries to explain how she did it, no one else understands how she did it. McGonagall gave up trying to teach her the ‘right way’ and just lets her do her own thing.”

“I could just work with Remus more then.”

“No, we can keep working together, especially if Colin is with us. Dean will cool off. It’s not like he doesn’t do things with the girls in his year. Last year, he spent hours and hours doing a painting of Parvati, and I wasn’t jealous at all.” At Brook’s doubtful look, she smiled. “Well, yeah I was a little jealous, but I only showed it a few times. Anyway, he’ll come around like he has in the past. He blew up at me and Colin more than once last year for studying together.”

“But Colin doesn’t like you; he worships Demelza. Everyone knows that.”

“Dean knows it, too, but that didn’t stop him from being jealous. In a few days, we’ll be back to normal.” Changing the subject, she said, “I see you have some parchment there. Taking my advice?”

“As a matter of fact, I am, and I think it might be helping. Thanks for the suggestion.”

“Anytime, Brook, anytime.” She got up and stretched, exposing a little skin as her shirt rode up. Brook tried to look away, but as he turned his head, she bent over and pecked him on the cheek, giving him a little electrical shock. “Night, Brook. Sleep well.” She turned and walked up the stairs to her dorm, Brook watching her every move, putting his hand over the spot where she had kissed him.

Back to index


Chapter 13: Broomclosets and Nightgowns

Broomclosets and Nightgowns

One evening a few days after the Quidditch victory, Hermione was just starting her Head Girl rounds, when Lavender came to her saying that she had heard some suspicious sounds coming from one of the broom closets on the sixth floor.

“What kind of suspicious sounds?” asked Hermione.

She raised her eyebrow. “You know, sounds of a certain activity between a boy and a girl,” Lavender replied.

Rolling her eyes, she replied with a sigh, “Okay, I can look into it, but why are you tattling on them? After all, I’ve caught you in a broom closet or two over the last two years.”

“They were being so loud that it really grossed me out. If they are going to do that, they really need to use a silencing charm.”

This made Hermione get a little more serious and she asked Lavender to show her the way to the closet in question. When they arrived, they didn’t hear anything, but Hermione took a deep breath and then opened the door, starting to say, “Alright you two, break it up,” but before she could get it out, she was shoved from behind into the closet and the door slammed shut. She felt her body forced against someone else and heard a grunt.

She quickly lit her wand with Lumos and saw that she was in the closet with Brook. Shocked she tried the door and found it was locked. “Already tried that,” Brook said. She then tried Alohomora with no success. “Tried that too,” said Brook, obviously frustrated.

“Lavender, what are you up to?” Hermione yelled through the door.

“Just helping the two of you make the next step. I’ve been watching you study together and I saw you after the Quidditch match, and I decided you needed a little nudge. You are going to be stuck in that closet until you admit your feelings for each other and kiss. And a peck on the cheek won’t work; it needs to be a real kiss. Once you kiss, the door will open. Have fun!”

“Lavender, wait!” cried Hermione, pounding on the door, but apparently Lavender had left as there was no reply. She turned to Brook, who had his head in his hand and was shaking it, and asked, “Do you know what this is about?”

Brook groaned before explaining. “I am afraid I do. A couple of weeks ago, Lavender tried to show me a more intimate use for the Room of Requirement, if you know what I mean. But I wasn’t interested in her that way, and I told her that there was someone else I liked but that she had a boyfriend and I didn’t want to break them up. She offered to help, but I asked her not to. Apparently, she didn’t want to listen to that request.”

Hermione turned a little red. “You fancy me, Brook? I had no idea. I thought we were just friends. While I am flattered . . .”

“Sorry, Hermione, but it isn’t you who I like, so you don’t have to worry about that. You are pretty and smart and kind, but we are friends, and that is all I want to be.”

“Whew, I thought that things were going to be awkward between us. But now what? Lavender said the only way out is if we kiss.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have any other idea. Let’s get it over with, and then we can figure out what to do next.”

Brook bent his head down while Hermione leaned hers up and their lips met, just barely brushing. As soon as their lips touched, the door was thrown open, and they heard an “Oi! What is going on here?” from Ron, who was standing at the door. Evidently, Lavender had also decided to help break up Ron and Hermione in this meddlesome night. Brook and Hermione quickly explained, and Ron, who knew Hermione well enough to know when she was lying, believed them. “I have two questions, then,” said Ron. “Who is it that you fancy, Brook?”

Brook blushed, knowing that he wanted to keep his feelings secret, especially from Ginny’s older, and very protective, brother, replied, “I’d rather not say. Like I told Lavender, she already has a boyfriend and seems happy. I don’t want to be the cause of any problems between them.”

“That’s fair and even noble, Brook. I think this girl would be lucky to go out with you,” said Hermione. Turning to Ron, “What was your second question?”

Ron grinned. “What are we going to do to get back at Lavender?”

***********

Brook had had several other nights when he had nightmares and had gone down to the common room when he couldn’t return to sleep, and, most of the time, somehow Ginny would know that he was there, and she would came down too and they talked, deepening their friendship but also strengthening Brook’s feelings for her. One time, she had actually appeared from the Fat Lady portrait, carrying a tray, and asked if he wanted a biscuit and some pumpkin juice. Odd midnight snack that is, he thought, but then when he saw that what she had called biscuits were actually cookies, it made more sense. Not quite cookies and milk with Mom, but this will do, he thought, and he enjoyed the snack, and the company.

However, one night it wasn’t a nightmare that caused him to go down to the common room but was the recurring dream that he had of Ginny joining him and saying that we can finish this together. He had woken from the dream in his usual state of calm, but as he remembered the dream, his thoughts started racing around his head. He tried to figure out what the dream could mean; it obviously wasn’t just a fantasy about the girl he was falling for. It was something more, but he couldn’t understand it.

For what was probably the thousandth time, he wished his parents were still with him so he could talk with them. His mom had always had a sympathetic ear for his problems and she often helped him to see another viewpoint for his situations. His dad, on the other hand, wasn’t as good with emotions and feelings, but could often see a practical solution that Brook hadn’t thought of. While they might not have an answer for the meaning behind his lifetime of dreams about Ginny, he knew that they would give him good advice on how to deal with her.

As he realized that he wasn’t going to fall asleep soon and he made his somewhat regular trek down to the common room, a wave of loneliness overcame him. He wanted to talk to someone, but he didn’t know who. On most topics, he could talk to Ron or Hermione, but admitting an obsession about his little sister might be too much for Ron to take. Neville was nice enough, but Brook just didn’t have the kind of relationship with him at this point that would allow this kind of conversation. Luna would certainly hear him out, but he probably wouldn’t be able to understand any advice she might give him or that she would say he had an infestation of some magical creature no one but she had ever heard of. He certainly couldn’t approach Dumbledore or McGonagall about his love life (or lack thereof); it would be like asking your great-grandparents for girlfriend advice. And the person he felt closest to and would feel the most comfortable talking with was Ginny, and that obviously was not an option in this case. Not seeing any better choices, he decided to follow Ginny’s advice again, writing his second letter to his parents.

October 1st, 1997

Dear Mom and Dad,

I am writing you in the middle of the night because I can’t sleep. I am really struggling with a problem, and I wish I could just talk to you about it. I know you would be able to get me back on track. My problem is about a girl. I have fallen for the girl I told you about in my last letter, Ginny, and I have fallen hard. And like I mentioned, she has a boyfriend she has been dating over a year. But I can’t stop thinking about her. She distracts me in class (I sit right behind her and I can’t help staring at her), she distracts me when we are playing Quidditch (that’s the sport I told you about in the last letter), she even distracts me when we are eating, ruining my appetite because of the flip flops she makes my stomach do. You know it’s serious when I’m not eating. It’s not like there aren’t other girls here. A few weeks ago one of my classmates tried to make out (or snogging as they call it here) with me in a classroom, but when we were kissing all I could see was Ginny’s face. And now, I’m not sleeping and writing you instead.

I don’t know what to do. No, that’s not right. I know what I should do; I should just leave her alone and find someone else. But it’s not that easy. I can’t just avoid her; after all she is in one of my classes, on the Quidditch team with me, eats at the same table as I for meals, and studies in the same common room. And she does seem to like me as a friend; she’s the person I have the easiest time talking to and is probably the person I am closest to here. She seeks me out when she needs to talk too. Those talks have helped me a lot when I need to vent about missing you, my friends, my life. Despite the fact that I know she is taken, I’ve become almost dependent on her. As a matter of fact, it’s almost like she senses when I am troubled and just appears out of nowhere to listen to whatever I am dealing with. I’m actually surprised she’s not here now.

Brook heard a noise as he was writing and looked up. There she is, just as if I had called her, he thought.

“Another nightmare, Brook?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he responded, lying.

“What are you writing?”

“I couldn’t sleep so I thought I would write my parents again.”

Ginny asked, “Want to talk about your dream to me?”

“Not really. There isn’t much to talk about; just another dream that I don’t understand and I can’t put out of my mind.” The frustration was obvious in his voice.

“It’s not just the dream, is it? What else is bothering you, Brook?” She pulled up a chair that she was sitting directly in front of him, their knees almost touching.

“I guess I’m missing my parents and my friends again. Sometimes I just feel overwhelmed with all that my new life is throwing at me, and just a little taste of my old life would be nice once in a while. The closest I get is an occasional letter from a friend back in America. There are times when I feel lost and so alone.” He dropped his face into his hands to hide the tears that were threatening to fall.

Ginny put a gentle hand on his shoulder and patted him lightly. As she tried to comfort him, Brook blinked away the tears and as he opened his eyes, he saw Ginny’s thighs below the hem of her nightgown. Noticing some freckles, his mind wandered to wondering where else on her body she might have them. Quickly he closed his eyes and tried to think of anything else.

“Brook, I can’t even begin to imagine what you have gone through the last few months, with losing your parents, learning that you are a wizard, and being whisked away from everything you knew into a new world that must be so confusing. It’s remarkable that you are coping as well as you are. But I want you to know something.” She took one hand under his chin and lifted his face to look at hers. “You are not alone; you have Ron and Hermione. You have Neville and Luna. You have the professors; well, not Snape, but all the rest.” She then grabbed both of his hands in hers. “And you have me; I will always be here for you, whenever you need me.”

Brook looked into her face which was just inches away. He stared into her brown eyes and felt himself falling into them. His gaze then shifted down to her lips that were slightly parted. It would take almost no movement on his part to capture them in his own. He started to lean more toward her, but then common sense took over and he sat upright. Trying to cover for his near mistake, he said quickly, “Ginny, you really have been a wonderful friend. And I know that I have other friends too. It’s just too much sometimes. I do feel better. I think that I might be able to fall asleep now. Good night.” He got up and went up the stairs to his dorm, leaving a slightly confused girl sitting on the couch. I lied to her again, after everything she has done for me, he thought guiltily. He barely slept the rest of the night, struggling with his feelings for “the little redheaded girl.”

*************

After barely staying awake through classes due to his lack of sleep, Brook was sitting in his bed, finishing his letter to his parents.

Sorry, had to take a break. Ginny came down to the common room exactly as I predicted and we talked some more. Unfortunately, I had to lie to her about why I was not sleeping. Even when I was being less than honest, she seemed to know exactly how I felt and was able to make me feel better. As we were talking, I almost kissed her. It was like my lips were being drawn towards hers by an external force. Luckily, I stopped before I got too close. Being close to her both physically and emotionally is torturing me. I just wish that you could reply to this letter and give me some advice; I know you’d be able to help.

On to other events. Classes are still going well; not much changes with them. Enjoying most of them and the professor of Defence is still a git! Next week we get our first break from school and have a day when we can visit the nearby village. There are supposed to be some cool shops and a pub that serves good sandwiches and ‘butterbeer’ (which is nonalcoholic, they assure me). The other students rave about these days, but I don’t know if I am going. A lot of the guys (I guess I should say ‘blokes’) are asking girls on dates for the day, so you understand my reluctance.

I’ll write soon again,

Brook

After completing the letter, Brook went back to the common room as he had promised to study Transfiguration with Ginny and Colin. He had tried to turn them down, as he thought more time with Ginny might not be a good idea, but they had insisted. While they were revising, Brook felt like his eyelids weighed several tons and he couldn’t keep them open, despite a few nudges from Ginny.

“That’s enough, Pelton! You’re coming with me to the kitchens to get some tea. Maybe that will help you stay awake.”

“Okay, but maybe some coffee might be better; that will have more caffeine.”

“If that’s what you want, I don’t care, as long as you can keep your eyes open.”

Ginny literally dragged him down to the kitchens and when they entered through the fruit bowl portrait, they were greeted by the same house-elf that had served Brook, Hermione, and Ron weeks before. “Master Pelton! Joppy gets your name right this time,” she said proudly. “Welcome. And you is bringing your Wheezy with you today. How cans Joppy serve you?”

Brook gulped. “She’s not ‘my Wheezy.’”

“She most certainly be your Wheezy. What can I gets you?”

Ginny leaned into Brook’s ear, “Don’t argue with them, Brook. They can be stubborn.” Turning back to Joppy, she said louder, “Master Pelton would like some coffee with milk and sugar and ‘his Wheezy’ would like some tea with a little milk.” She looked at him, trying to hold in her laughter until she finally gave in and began giggling.

After they finished drinking their beverages, Ginny stood and said in a formal tone, “Mister Pelton, would you accompany ‘your Wheezy’ back to the common room so we can finish revising?”

Brook arose as well and offered his arm. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No, probably not. Why should I?”

“I can think of two good reasons, Dean and Ron.”

“Oh, you’re right,” she replied, pulling her arm from his. “We probably should keep this between us.” It was an awkward silence that they returned to the common room. Studying didn’t get very far as neither Brook nor Ginny talked much. After about thirty minutes, Colin stood up in frustration and said, “I don’t know what’s with the two of you, but I can study by myself just as well as with you this evening. Good night!”

**********

A few mornings later, Lavender had just stepped out of the shower and she wrapped a towel around her as she went to the mirror to comb her wet hair. She had a little bit of a lie in and was rushing to get ready for her first class. No time for breakfast today, she thought. The instant she picked up her comb, she felt a tugging sensation at her navel. The next moment she was disoriented as she was no longer looking at her mirror. She looked around and saw that she was standing in the middle of the Great Hall, wearing nothing but a towel that barely covered her. A roar of laughter started to build through the student body as they ate their breakfasts. When she realized what had happened, she screamed and ran out the front doors of the hall.

As she left, the laughter chased her down the corridors, but three Gryffindors in particular were laughing harder than the rest.

“That was great, Ron,” Hermione struggled to say between giggles. “I am so glad that you contacted the twins for help on how to get Lavender.”

“Maybe she’ll think before she sticks her nose in where it doesn’t belong the next time,” laughed Brook.

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Chapter 14: Hogsmeade

Hogsmeade

The unchanging schedule was broken toward the middle of October with a Hogsmeade weekend. At lunch that week, Hermione asked Brook if he was going to ask anyone to go with him, knowing that he fancied someone.

“I don’t think so. I’m not even sure I want to go at all,” he replied.

“Well, you’re welcome to come with us,” said Ron. “We’d be happy to show you Hogsmeade.”

“I think I’ll pass. I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

Ginny overheard this conversation and spoke up, “Why don’t you come with us, Brook? Dean, Seamus, Luna, Neville, and I were going to go as a group and we’d love it if you joined us, wouldn’t we Dean?”

Dean agreed, “Yes, please join us. It would be a shame for you to miss a Hogsmeade visit. We’ll have lots of fun.” After a few awkward days, Dean had gotten over his jealousy of Brook, just like Ginny said he would, and he acted like nothing had ever happened.

Neville also encouraged him to come, but Brook was reluctant. It still felt like a spear in his heart whenever he saw Dean and Ginny together and he wasn’t sure a whole day together would be a good idea. But, under pressure from all three of them, he finally agreed to go, primarily because he couldn’t come up with an excuse they would accept, and he certainly wasn’t going to reveal the real reason.

When the day came, the Gryffindors were eating breakfast together and, as they finished, Luna came over. “Looks like a beautiful day for a Hogsmeade outing! Shall we?”

Ginny and Brook stood up, but Dean stayed where he was, with an obvious dejected look on his face. “Why aren’t you coming, Dean?” asked Brook.

“Yesterday in class, Seamus and I blew up our potion, so we have to stay back today to redo it.”

“Oh, sorry to hear it,” said Brook, hiding his excitement at getting to go with Ginny without Dean. He looked around and asked, “Where’s Neville? Isn’t he joining us?”

“Neville finally showed some Gryffindor courage and asked Hannah Abbott to go with him; he’s already left with her,” said Ginny with a smirk on her face. “So, it’s just the three of us. Think you’re man enough to handle two women, Brook?” with a wink.

“I don’t know but I can certainly try. Shall we?” he asked, holding out his two arms so that the girls could hook their arms through.

The three walked to the village and Ginny and Luna showed Brook their favorite shops. They started at Honeydukes and Brook was amazed at all of the different kinds of magical sweets, making sure he took advantage of the free samples so that he could try many of these confections that were new to him. Each left with a bag stuffed with their favorites. They then went to Scrivenshafts to stock up on quills and ink. They browsed through Tomes and Scrolls, where they found Hermione and Ron, surprise, surprise, but didn’t find anything they absolutely had to have.

Next was the newly opened Hogsmeade branch of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. As they walked in, they were greeted by red headed, freckled twins, who Brook instantly identified as Fred and George, Ginny’s brothers.

“Gin-Gin! Welcome to our grand opening!” said one of the twins.

“Hi, Luna. And who is this escorting our ickle sister? Care for a cream?” said the other.

“George, Fred, this is Brook. He is a new student at Hogwarts this year. He’s in Ron’s year. Brook, be careful of these two. And whatever you do, don’t eat anything they give you!”

“Ginny, you wound our hearts. Would we pull a prank on someone we’ve just met?”

“Yes, you would.”

“How right you are, Ginnikins. Oh, well, guess we’ll have to get someone else to eat this Canary Cream for our amusement. Nice to meet you, Brook,” said one of the twins, holding out his hand. Brook, cautiously held out his hand, wondering if there was a magical version of a joy buzzer, but was pleasantly surprised that there was no prank this time.

As he shook each twin’s hand, he said, “It is nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard all about your exploits at Hogwarts. I also want to thank you for your help with that prank Ron, Hermione, and I played last week on Lavender. We couldn’t make that portkey while in the castle; Hermione tells me that only Dumbledore is able to do that.”

“I thought that you three looked like you were enjoying her embarrassment a little more than the rest of us. What did she do to deserve that?” asked Ginny.

“Maybe I’ll tell you over lunch,” Brook replied with a wink.

The three of them walked around the store, seeing many of the items that were on Filch’s banned list and some that should have been. Skiving Snackboxes. Extendable Ears. Dungbombs. Boxing Telescopes. Headless Hats. Quills with Spell Check. And the list went on and on. Ginny bought a few supplies, whispering to Brook, “In case Malfoy runs his mouth some more.”

After leaving WWW, they decided it was time for lunch so they went to the Three Broomsticks. While they ate some sandwiches and Butterbeer, Brook told them about what Lavender had done to earn her treatment, with some editing. He, of course, didn’t tell them that Lavender knew that he liked someone; he didn’t want to have to answer any questions as to who that might be. He just said that she saw Brook and Hermione studying together a lot, and after Hermione’s greeting for him after the Quidditch match, she made a wrong assumption.

After they had finished lunch, Luna announced that she was going to go back to the school as she had been up late studying several nights this week and wanted to take a nap. As she left, she kissed Brook on the cheek, saying, “Thank you, kind sir, for escorting me today.” She added, whispering so that Ginny could not hear her, “I think you two need some time alone together. Tell her how you feel,” and she winked before turning back to the castle.

Brook blushed a little, but he hoped Ginny didn’t notice. He started to enjoy the idea of an afternoon with Ginny, but then remembered Dean, and instantly felt guilty. “Maybe we should get back too. Do you think Dean is done with his potion yet?”

“They should be, but after they were done Professor Slughorn said they had to clean up the classroom. Their explosion made quite a mess. Why don’t we just take a walk?” Ginny asked as she grabbed his hand.

His fingers tingled as she led him to the outskirts of town and to an open field that overlooked the village. She conjured a blanket and they sat down. “I’ve always liked it here. It’s peaceful and I enjoy just watching everyone wander around the shops.”

“I like the view too,” said Brook, but he wasn’t looking at the village; he was looking at Ginny’s profile. He then looked away, uncomfortable with where his mind was taking him. When Luna had been there, it was easier to act like friends, but now that they were alone, sitting close, it took all of his will not to reach out and touch her. He was like a moth around a porch light and it took everything he had to resist the attraction.

To keep his mind from going where it shouldn’t, he started talking about classes, about his life in America, his parents. She was easy to talk to, and she was genuinely interested in learning about his past. And she told him about growing up in a magical family, but he learned that much of her life wasn’t that different from his. As she described her house, the surrounding grounds and pond, and what she did as a young girl, he was struck again that his dreams must have been about her as she was growing up. She then talked about being the only daughter in a family with six brothers, about how she was always thought of as “little Ginny” and how protective everyone was of her. At times it felt like they didn’t trust her to make her own decisions and they definitely were not ready to accept her as an adult, which she would be the next summer. They were still uncomfortable with the idea of her dating at all and none of the boys she had dated had been good enough for her.

“Even Dean?” asked Brook.

“He’s the closest to being accepted since Ron, the twins, and Percy all know him from being in Gryffindor. But there were a few that were scared off by threats from by older brothers. Anyone who dates me had better have Gryffindor courage if they hope to survive the Weasley brothers.”

I’d be willing to face anything for you, he thought, but then he chastised himself and shook his head.

Ginny noticed this and asked “What’s wrong?”

Brook quickly thought something to say, “Nothing. It’s just that putting up with your brothers might be tough but you’re worth it.” Well, maybe I didn’t cover my thoughts very well, he thought, but it brought a very sweet smile from Ginny, so that was worth it too.

Before they knew it, they were looking at a beautiful sunset. “We’d better be getting back before Filch tries to give us a detention,” said Brook as he stood. “I don’t want my first Hogsmeade trip to be my last.” He leaned down, offering his hand to help Ginny up, feeling that tingling again as they touched.

As he pulled her up, she came much closer than he had expected, and their faces were just inches apart. She didn’t release the grip she had on his hands and said, “I had a really nice time today. I really enjoy talking with you; I feel like I can tell you anything.”

“I feel the same way.” He looked down at her chocolate brown eyes and found himself drowning in them. Before he knew what was happening, he leaned down and kissed her. When their lips touched, a shock like static electricity jolted through him, starting at his lips and travelling through his whole body. When she didn’t react at first, he started to pull back, realizing his mistake, but then her lips responded and their kiss deepened. His whole body felt like it was on fire, but had goose bumps at the same time. His hands cradled her face and then travelled into her hair, that glorious hair that he had stared at for what seemed like hours, that hair that he had fantasized about how it would feel in his hands. It was thick and silky all at the same time, and he couldn’t believe this was happening. Why haven't I done this before? he thought.

And then he remembered: Dean.

Brook pulled back suddenly, realizing what he had done and his face went white. “I’m sorry; this is a mistake. I shouldn’t have done that,” he said guiltily and he turned and walked away as quickly as he could, heading back to the school.

A/N: I know this chapter is shorter than my usual, but I felt like it needed to stand by itself. And what's a good story without at least a few cliffhangers?

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Chapter 15: Confessions

Author's Notes: Thanks to Arnel who has offered to be the beta for the rest of this story. I really appreciate all the help she is giving to improve my writing.


Confessions

When Brook got back to the castle, it was dinner time and as he entered the Great Hall, the first person he saw was Dean sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table. “Hey, mate!” he said as he waved at Brook. “How was your first trip to Hogsmeade?”

Gripped in guilt for what he had just done, Brook answered, “Okay, I guess.”

“Where’s Ginny? I figured she’d be with you.”

“I’m sure she’ll be along soon.” Brook looked back nervously, in case she was there. After a pause, he said, “You know, we had a big lunch and I’m pretty tired; I think I’ll skip dinner and take a nap. See you later, Dean.” He turned quickly and headed back to his dorm. There he lay down in his bed, staring at the canopy. Now what? How can I face her after doing that? How can I face Dean? Or Ron? I wouldn’t be surprised if they all want me out of this room when they learn what I did. Maybe Dumbledore can move me down into the 6th years’ dorm. You are such a weakling, Pelton! Can’t control yourself at all! You need to get it through your head that she is taken! Stop thinking of her that way.

But as much he tried, the memories of that kiss kept coming back to him.

After a short while, Ron came up and dragged him down to the common room to play chess. Fortunately, Ginny didn’t seem to be there, but his eyes were pulled to the portrait holeevery time it opened with an odd mixture of dread and anticipation that it might be her. He also occasionally glanced over at Dean, who was playing Exploding Snap on the other side of the room with Seamus.

“Hey, Brook, pay attention. You normally give me more of a challenge than this. Where’s your mind tonight?”

“I don’t know, Ron. Maybe just a little tired from Hogsmeade.”

“Where did you get to? We never saw you or Ginny after lunch.”

Brook’s palms started sweating as he tried to come up with an answer. “Oh, we just sat on a hill looking over the town and talked,” hoping it sounded innocent.

“Don’t let Dean know she took you there. That’s where they normally go when they want to be alone, if you know what I mean.” Brook went pale, which Ron noticed and chuckled. “I’m just teasing you, mate. Dean may get all hot under the collar at times, but he trusts Ginny and he trusts you.”

He shouldn’t, thought Harry, making himself feel even guiltier. He started sweating a little and Ron asked, “You okay, mate? You’re looking a little peaky. Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey?”

“No, but I think I will turn in early. Maybe I need some rest. See you in the morning, Ron.” As he walked to the door to the boys’ dorm, the portrait opened again, and this time it was Ginny. He couldn’t help looking at her and their eyes met for a second before she turned toward Dean and sat next to him on the couch. His last view before closing the door was Ginny whispering something in Dean’s ear. He felt like he had been hit in the gut as he walked up the stairs.

Over the next few days, Brook became very adept at avoiding Ginny. He traded one obsession for another, from ‘Chasing Miss Weasley’ to ‘Evading Miss Weasley.’ All the knowledge he had gained while basically stalking her came in handy. He knew when she would eat her meals, which corridors she would walk between classes, when she would study in the library, and when she would likely be in the common room. He would get up and eat an early breakfast, knowing that she usually just grabbed some toast and juice at the last minute before class. He ate a huge breakfast so that he could skip lunch, using the excuse with his classmates that he needed to study more. He then would either show up at the very end of dinner and imitate Ron, shovelling the food in quickly, or nick something from the elves in the kitchens after dinner was over.

He couldn’t totally avoid her, since they had DA and Transfiguration together, but he did his best. For Transfiguration he hid under his Invisibility Cloak just outside the door until she went in and then sat down at the last minute by Luna. His efforts to avoid her were helped by the fact that Ginny wasn’t in the common room nearly as often as she normally was.

Dean was harder to avoid since he was in both of Brook’s other classes and, of course, in his dorm room, but fortunately Dean was gone from the common room almost every evening that week. When he came back to the common room in the evenings, he had a wide grin on his face. Probably off with Ginny somewhere, thought Brook. But that idea actually made things worse, as he began to picture what they could be doing, wishing that it was he that she was with. One night after midnight Brook was coming back from the loo when he bumped into Dean, who was trying to sneak into the dorm undetected. In the moonlight coming in the window, Brook could see that Dean’s shirt was rumpled and untucked and the buttons were not in the correct holes. Brook felt a growl building inside him and felt like he wanted to tear Dean apart for what he was doing with Ginny. He took a few deep breaths and got into his bed, but couldn’t go back to sleep.

That wasn’t the only night that he lost sleep, his dreams filled with replays of their kiss and what more kissing could lead to. He couldn’t get the wonderful sensations he had experienced out of his mind, day or night. He would wake up several times per night, whispering her name. He mentally thanked Professor Flitwick again for teaching him the Silencing Charm. One night, after a few hours staring at the canopy over his bed trying to get her out of his mind, he gave up, deciding to go to the kitchens to get some hot milk to see if that would help him sleep. He grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and quietly left the dorm. As he tiptoed through the common room under his Cloak, he noticed someone sleeping on a couch. He looked closer and realized it was Ginny. He looked longingly at her, thinking about how beautiful she was. But just before he turned to leave, her face changed from peaceful to fretful and she started tossing in her sleep, mumbling something that sounded like, “No, Tom, no!” He was drawn to her and, before he knew what he was doing, he had reached his hand out and was brushing her cheek, whispering, “Shh, Ginny, shh. It’s just a dream; go back to sleep.” Almost as soon as he touched her, she calmed down and settled back into a serene slumber. He rose, feeling better himself, and decided to pass on the warm milk and go back to his dorm.

Several nights later, after an especially passionate dream snogging session, he woke with a racing heart. There is no way that I’m going to be able to go back to sleep after that! he thought, exasperated. He considered a cold shower, but figured that would wake up his dorm mates and they might start asking some suspicious questions which he really wanted to avoid. So, he decided to go down to the common room with a copy of Hogwarts: A History, figuring that would probably distract him and help him get back to sleep.

As he sat on the couch, he found he couldn’t concentrate on the book at all. All he could see was her beautiful eyes looking up at him as he leaned down to kiss her lips. He slammed the book closed in frustration and ran his hands through his hair as he stared at the fire.

“Don’t let Hermione see you abusing your book like that; that happens to be her favourite.” Brook startled at the voice and looked up and saw Ginny walking toward him with a smirk as she sat down on the couch next to him. “Another nightmare?” she asked.

“Not this time. Just couldn’t sleep,” he said, staring at his hands in his lap so he wouldn’t have look at her.

“Want to talk about what’s keeping you up?”

“You’re the last person I would talk to about this,” he muttered, but as he looked at her hurt face, he could tell she had heard him anyway. He stood up and said, “Good night, Ginny; I’m going up.”

“Wait, Brook,” she said as she placed a hand on his arm. “I really do want to talk.”

He shivered at her touch, but then pulled his arm away. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

He hesitated, looking down at his feet, before saying quietly, “I don’t trust myself to be alone with you.”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about. Please?” She placed a finger underneath his chin, forcing him to look her in the face. “Please?” she repeated, biting her lower lip.

He nodded, afraid of saying anything. She took his hand and pulled him down to sit down next to her, their knees almost touching. He kept his eyes down to avoid looking her in the face, but his eyes were drawn to the hem of her nightgown again, just above her knees, but he decided that looking at her face was probably safer than where his thoughts would go staring at her thighs.

“Brook, I know you’ve been avoiding me since Saturday.” Brook opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, she stopped him. “Don’t deny it. I’ve hardly seen you the last few days. Have you even been eating? You’re never in the Great Hall during meals.”

“I’ve been eating a big breakfast, but leaving before you get up, skipping lunch, and catching something from the house-elves after dinner,” he admitted. “I thought it would help to not be around you. That way I wouldn’t think about you constantly.”

“Has it helped?”

Brook thought for a moment. “No. If anything, it’s worse. I’m sorry, Ginny, but I can’t stop thinking about you, how I forced myself on you, how I betrayed Dean and Ron. I really messed up this time and I don’t know what to do about it.” He dropped his face into his hands and closed his eyes, not wanting to look her in the face any more.

“Brook, look at me.” When he didn’t respond, she took his hands in hers and said more forcefully, “Look at me.” When he looked up into her eyes again, she started, “Brook, I want you to listen to me. And please don’t interrupt, before I lose my nerve. You know that Dean and I have been going out for over a year now. We have a good relationship; we enjoy spending time together and he makes me laugh. But there is something missing. There is no passion. I love him, and I think he loves me too, but not romantically. Our relationship is comfortable, and I think that’s why we’ve stayed together for so long. But with you it’s different. My heart skips a beat when you smile at me, my stomach flutters in anticipation when I know that I am going to see you and when you stare at me." She smiled at him as he felt his face grow hot. "Yes, I do notice when you stare at me. You’re not very subtle sometimes. Anyway, when you stare at me, it’s almost like I can feel your presence around me, like you’re almost touching me. I have never been more thrilled than when Dean got that detention on Saturday; I so much wanted to spend the day with you. Alone with you. Luna must have sensed it which is why she left after lunch. That afternoon talking to you was wonderful; yes, I felt comfortable with you, but a different comfortable than with Dean. There was something else, like an energy flowing through me. And when we kissed. -- Oh, and don’t you say ever again that you forced yourself on me.-- I wanted it just as much as you did. I kissed you back, didn’t I? But the feeling when we kissed was unlike any I’ve ever felt. And then you ran off, saying it was all a mistake. I almost ran after you, but I didn’t know what to think; I was so confused. So, I walked back to the castle slowly and did a lot of thinking. I realized at that moment what my relationship with Dean was missing. I didn’t know what to call it, I still don’t, but whatever it is that Dean and I don’t have, I now know that you and I do have it. You turned on a switch inside me and I’ve been different ever since. But despair hit my heart when I thought about your reaction to our kiss. I would think about your words; you said it was a mistake. What did you mean by that? Did you feel the same way about me? Or did you feel nothing and you regretted kissing me? I thought you were attracted to me, but did our kiss turn you off? Or was it a mistake because of my relationship with Dean? How did you feel about a girl who would kiss a boy when she already had a boyfriend? Did you think I was a slag? Could you ever trust me, knowing I was unfaithful to Dean? Those are the thoughts that have been keeping me up at night. I’ve come down here every night, hoping that you would be here. You see, I decided then and there that I had to end it with Dean and convince you to give me a chance. I had to hope that you felt the same way I feel about you, that the kiss meant something to you too.”

Brook met her eyes, hoping against hope that what she'd just said was true. “So, why haven’t you broken up with him yet?” he asked, still a bit bewildered.

She looked at him in confusion. “But I did, that very night.”

Brook started to get a little angry at her deception. “And you’ve still been snogging him every night? I’ve seen his grin every night when he returns to the common room and I caught him night before last sneaking into the dorm after midnight, his clothes all rumpled,” he said accusingly.

Ginny started laughing, causing Brook to be the one baffled this time. “Dean wasn’t snogging me. He was with Padma. You see, when I revealed to Dean how I was feeling, how I felt we had stayed together because we were comfortable and that something was missing, he agreed. I told him about what had happened between us and he admitted something similar had occurred with him and Padma. Padma had also been in detention with Slughorn Saturday and they got to talking afterwards. One thing led to another and they kissed that afternoon as well. And he said he felt something different when he kissed her. That’s where he has been off to all week; I’m guessing that they are trying out every broom cupboard they can find.”

“Oh." Brook stared at the floor, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have assumed he was with you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have, but I guess I can see how you would jump to that conclusion. So, Brook, it’s now back in your corner. Why did you say our kiss was a mistake? Was it because of my relationship with Dean or was it because of your lack of feelings for me? Put me out of my misery, please? I need to know either way.”

Brook looked into her eyes that were pleading to him and he melted all over again. He took her face in his hands and lightly kissed her. This time she responded instantaneously, and he was lost in her, pulling her to him and deepening the kiss. When they stopped for air, he held her close, his face in the crook of her neck, and he panted, “I’ve wanted to do that again all week.”

When his breathing slowed down, he pulled back, and said, “I owe you a proper answer to your question.”

“Oh, I think have all the answer I need,” smiled Ginny breathlessly.

“No, it’s my turn to be honest. I have never felt a kiss like that either, and I’ve never felt for a girl what I feel for you.” He stopped and looked in her eyes again. “I can’t take my eyes off of you. I’m constantly thinking about you. When you touch me, I get all tingly. And that night we fell asleep on the couch, it just felt right, like I’ve been looking for something all my life and I had finally found it. When I see you with Dean, it felt like an icy spike in my chest; other times it was like a monster was growling inside me, wanting to tear him apart limb from limb just for putting his arm around you. You don’t know how tough these last few weeks have been since I realized what I felt for you.” He almost told her about the dreams, but stopped before he revealed that; I don’t want to scare her off just yet. “And then we kissed, and that’s all that I could think of, the feel of your lips, the sensation of drowning in your beautiful brown eyes. Of course, those feelings were quickly followed by guilt about what I had done. So, yes, when I said it was a mistake, it was because it was wrong of me to kiss my roommate’s girlfriend. But even though it was a mistake, I don’t regret kissing you. I can’t regret something that made me feel like that. But I was sure that it was going to be my only chance. I’m hoping now that I’ll get more chances. Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes,” she replied before kissing him again. After a few more minutes, she snuggled up to him and they fell asleep on the couch again. As the fire gradually faded, the common room was filled with an eerie glow that was centred on that couch, but there was no one to notice it.

Back to index


Chapter 16: Temper, Temper

Author's Notes: Thanks again to my beta, Arnel. She especially helped with the breakfast scene.


Temper, Temper

As Brook woke up the next morning, he felt refreshed for the first time in what felt like weeks. Before opening his eyes, he took a deep breath, but felt a weight on his chest. A little startled, his eyes opened to a curtain of red. Oh, no, I’ve done it again! I fell asleep with another guy’s girlfriend! But then the events of last night came back to him. No, I fell asleep with my girlfriend! He tightened his grip around her and let out a contented sigh. Ginny stirred at that moment and her head lifted until her smiling face appeared before him.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmured huskily.

“Good morning to you, too, handsome.” She stretched, giving him a little peck on the lips. “A wonderful morning, in my opinion.”

He kissed her back, but then said, “As much as I would love to stay here like this, we probably should get up. Why don’t we get showered and dressed and enjoy an early breakfast together.”

“Sounds wonderful.” She jumped up and walked to the girls’ dorm door, looking back over her shoulder, saying, “See you in fifteen or twenty minutes,” and blew him a kiss.

Brook got ready in record time, not wanting to miss out on any time that he could spend with Ginny. She came down a few minutes later, and when she saw him, she gave him a huge smile. Wow, that smile is for me! He arose from the chair he was sitting in, grabbed her hand, and the two of them walked out the portrait hole toward the Great Hall. They were one of the first to arrive for breakfast, so they ate leisurely. Not long after they had started, they saw several Gryffindors, including Ron and Hermione, walking into the room.

Ginny whispered, “Let’s not tell them anything and see if they notice.”

“Good morning, Brook. Good morning, Ginny,” said Hermione, while Ron grunted something that might have been a greeting. “What are you doing up so early, Ginny? You’re normally as much of a morning person as Ron and just nick some toast on your way to class.”

“I just didn’t want to waste any of this beautiful day lazing about in bed.”

“What’s beautiful about it? You don’t have double Defence this morning with Snape,” grumbled Ron as he started serving himself a large helping of eggs.

“What’s got you so chipper?” asked Hermione.

“I had the best night of sleep that I can remember,” Ginny replied, glancing over at Brook and grinning.

“Me too,” said Brook, leaning into Ginny and giving her shoulder a little nudge. “Can you pass me the marmalade, Gin?”

She reached across to grab the jar and handed it to Brook, their hands touching perhaps a little longer than was necessary. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He spread some on his toast and then looked at Ginny’s plate. “Ginny, would you like some more eggs?”

“Yes, please.”

Brook took the bowl of eggs from in front of Ron and spooned some on Ginny’s plate. “Is that enough?”

“Yes, that’s good. Thank you,” she said, giving him a smile and a pat on his knee under the table.

Hermione eyed the pair suspiciously. “Brook, I’m surprised you’re not heading off to the library this morning. Lately you hardly ever eat with us.”

Brook shrugged his shoulders. “I decided that I wanted to have some company this morning,” looking at Ginny the whole time he answered Hermione’s question.

Ginny added, “I like that decision,” beaming back at him.

Hermione leaned over and hissed, “What’s got into the two of you this morning? You’re flirting with each other for everyone to see, and with Dean not twenty feet away,” pointing at Brook’s roommate who had just sat down a little farther down the table. “I don’t care if you two start going out, but how can you so blatantly throw it in Dean’s face?” She poked Ron in the side. “Ron, what do you think of this?”

Ron looked up from his food, as if waking up from a trance. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Hermione looked at her boyfriend in astonishment. “Have you been paying attention at all to the way Ginny and Brook are behaving?”

Ron looked at Ginny and Brook, noticing they were sitting together. “So you two are talking again?” asked Ron. “Brook’s been avoiding you like the plague, Ginny. So did you apologize for whatever you did to him?”

“Why would you assume that I did something?” asked Ginny, obviously affronted.

“I dunno. Just assumed,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m glad you two are getting along again though; I was worried how Quidditch practice was going to be tonight.”

Brook squeezed Ginny’s hand underneath the table and said, “I’m glad we’re getting along, too, Ron,” again looking directly into Ginny’s eyes.

“So what did she do to annoy you?”

“She didn’t do anything, Ron. I was avoiding her because of something I did.”

Ron’s eyes narrowed. “And just what did you do to my little sister, Pelton, that made you want to avoid her?”

“I kissed her. In Hogsmeade.”

“What?!” Ron sat up and looked ready to get up to defend his sister’s honour.

Brook put his hands up in front of him. “Calm down, Ron. We worked it all out last night.”

“And how did you ‘work it all out’?”

Brook looked over at Ginny before answering. “I kissed her again.” He then grabbed her hand and took it to his mouth and kissed it.

Ron speechlessly turned the shade of a tomato, but Hermione was able to choke out, “What about Dean?”

“What about me?” said Dean, who had just stood up from the table as Padma walked toward him. He took her hand in his and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“We agreed to break up last week as we had both found someone we were more attracted to,” said Ginny.

“Yeah,” agreed Dean. “I’m sure that we’ll always be good friends, but we just didn’t have that ‘spark’.”

“So, Ron, Brook and I are dating; are you okay with that?” Ginny stared at him, daring him to protest.

Ron hesitated for a moment as he thought. “I guess; I just didn’t see that coming. I actually thought you were avoiding Ginny and I wondered what she had done to tick you off.”

“Well, I did feel pretty guilty about kissing her in the first place, so I wanted to keep my space, even though I was attracted to her.” Brook leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, but she turned her face and their lips met.

“Oi, I’m trying to eat here!” Ron exclaimed. He took a swig of pumpkin juice before adding, “I’m okay with this, as long as you aren’t constantly snogging her in front of me.”

“Then, maybe you are going to need to close your eyes more often, big brother,” teased Ginny. “After all I had to put up with this summer with the two of you, I think some payback is warranted.” She put her hand on Brook’s chin, turned his head toward her again, and gave him a much more passionate kiss.

They each finished their breakfast one handed as they held hands underneath the table through the rest of the meal. Ginny had just popped her last bite of toast into her mouth when Malfoy approached them, his customary sneer on his face. “So the Yankee tosser is going out with the Weaselette now, huh? Not surprising that a blood traitor like her would go out with yet another Mudblood like you.”

“Sod off, Malfoy,” said Brook calmly, not even looking up from his meal. He could tell that Ginny was getting angry, but he squeezed her hand and looked at her reassuringly.

“Who do you think you’re talking to, Pelton? No Yank Mudblood is going to talk to me like that!” Malfoy pulled out his wand, but before he could cast a spell, Brook waved his free hand and muttered, “Diminuendo” under his breath. Malfoy’s eyes suddenly widened, he gulped and looked down, said something under his breath in a very high voice, and then ran from the hall.

Everyone just stared at Brook until Hermione asked, “Brook, what did you do to Malfoy? I heard you say a spell, but couldn’t quite hear it.”

“I just used Diminuendo on him.”

“The Shrinking Charm? I didn’t see anything different? What did you shrink?”

Brook got a nasty smirk on his face. “His . . . what do you call them here? Oh, yeah, bits. But I don’t think there was much of a change though.”

Ginny was the first one to laugh, followed by the rest of the table. “Thanks for holding me back, Brook,” whispered Ginny. “I was getting ready to hit him with my Bat-Bogey Hex, but I think your idea was better. Definitely more subtle, and less likely to get us in trouble.”

A few minutes later, as they gathered their bags to go to their first lessons, Lavender came over and stopped them from leaving. “Brook, I want to apologize to you for that trick I played on you and Hermione a few weeks ago. I realize that I read all the clues wrong; obviously, Ginny was who you meant.”

“Yeah, she was, but you had me scared for a moment. When you said that you knew who it was, I thought that perhaps I wasn’t hiding my feelings for Ginny as well as I thought.” Brook admitted.

Dean came up to the couple and gave Ginny a hug. “Congratulations, Ginny. I haven’t seen you this happy for a long time; you are absolutely glowing.” He turned to Brook, “I still care for Ginny as a very good friend, and if you hurt her, you are going to have to answer to me.”

“That goes for me as well,” added Ron.

“I’ll be careful, you two. I had already assumed I would be in hot water if I ever hurt her, since she has six overprotective older brothers.”

“And don’t forget Ginny herself. You may not have seen her temper yet. I would be more afraid of her wrath than all her brothers combined,” Dean joked.

Ginny laughed and hit him on the arm lightly. “I’m not that bad, Dean. Don’t scare him off now that I finally convinced him to go out with me.”

“I’ll let you be the judge of that, Brook. Good luck dealing with her temper.”

I’m sure I can handle a little temper, Brook thought. How bad can it be? He turned to Ginny and said, “We’d better head to class.”

As they left the Great Hall and walked hand in hand up the marble staircase, they passed Professor McGonagall. “Good morning, Professor,” greeted Brook.

“Mr Pelton. Miss Weasley.” Brook noticed her eyes dart down toward their entwined hands and then back up to their faces. “It is good to see the two of you this morning,” she said with a definite emphasis on ‘two’. “Perhaps now you will be able to concentrate better in Transfiguration, Mr Pelton?” she asked and then gave him a wink as they passed, causing Brook to turn red.

“What was that all about?” asked Ginny.

“How am I to know?” Brook said. Trying to change the subject quickly, “Well, I better get off to Defence. Don’t want to be late for Snape. See you at lunch,” giving her a quick kiss.

**********

October 10th, 1997

Dear Aaron,

I know I just wrote you ten days ago, but I need to fill you in on some news. I told you about the free day to visit the local village in my last letter and my reluctance to go. Well, it ended up that I got to spend the whole day with Ginny, the girl I told you about that I couldn't stop thinking about, and much of it just the two of us (not my plan but events conspired against me.) At the end of the day, I don’t know what came over me, but I just kissed her. And what a kiss. I know it sounds cliché, but it was magical. (Brook couldn’t help putting in that little joke). I’ve never had a kiss anything like it. While kissing a girl who already has a boyfriend is out of character for me, my reaction to my error in judgment was typical; I ran. I avoided her totally over the next several days, but eventually she tracked me down in the middle of the night (again), and told me that she had already been considering breaking up with her boyfriend, and our kiss finally convinced her to do it. So we’re together now and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.

Other than that, no major changes. School’s the same, teachers are the same, Quidditch is the same. Well, maybe not the same, because everything is better because of Ginny. I know I sound sappy, but it’s the truth.

Hope you are doing as well as I. Hope to hear from you soon,

Brook

**********

"Hey, Lydia! Do you want to sit with Ginny and me?" Brook and Ginny were walking hand in hand down to the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff Quidditch match when he had spotted the younger girl walking by herself. Brook had kept his promise and had been working with her after most practices, and had learned a lot about her. She was the daughter of a Muggle and a Squib, so she had been raised in a non-magical house, but was aware of magic since she often visited her mum's parents, who were magical. He also discovered that she was quiet and shy and had few friends. Unfortunately, most of the Gryffindor girls in her year had known each other before arriving at Hogwarts, so she never felt like she fit in. She tended to sit by herself at meals and in the common room, but Brook had been trying to include her with the rest of the Quidditch team.

"I don't want to intrude on you two," she replied. "After all, you did just finally get together this week."

"What do you mean 'finally'?"

"Oh, come on, Brook. At Quidditch practice, Ron had me focused on watching you and even I could tell you fancied Ginny with the way you were constantly staring at her. I'm just glad the two of you realized what you felt for each other. Haven't seen the two of you in the common room that much the last few days. Not doing anything you shouldn't be, are you?" she said with a smirk.

Brook ruffled her hair. "That's none of your business, pipsqueak," he teased, before putting his arm around her as they arrived at the pitch. "Let's find some seats."

They scanned the Gryffindor section and finally found the rest of the team sitting together. Hermione, Padma and Colin were there, too, sitting with their significant others. Brook and Ginny weren't the only new couple that started during the Hogsmeade weekend as Colin had finally developed enough courage to ask Demelza to go with him. As they climbed the stairs to join the team, Ron noticed them.

"Oh, good, Forrest and Pelton, you're here." As they sat down one row in front of him, he put his arm around each of them and said, "Now, I want the two of you to scout the Seekers. Summerby for Hufflepuff has never impressed me, but he may have improved. I don't know who the new Ravenclaw Seeker is, since Chang left last year. Make sure you get a good feel for their tactics so you can be ready for them in the spring." He turned to Ginny. "Ginny, why don't you sit over there with Dean and Demelza so that you can discuss the Chasers."

Ginny's face turned a little red as she faced her brother. "Ron, I came here to watch a Quidditch match with my boyfriend, not to spend the whole time scouting the other teams. Can't you just let us enjoy the match instead of making it work? Life is not all about just Quidditch!" She pulled out her wand, pointing it at him.

Ron put up his hands. "Okay, okay, Ginny, don't hex me. If you could maybe watch the Chasers while you are 'enjoying' the match, I would appreciate it." Ron retreated down the row to sit with Hermione.

Dean leaned in and whispered to Brook, "I warned you about her temper, didn't I?" giving him a wink.

Brook did watch the match closely, though, as it was his first chance to actually see one, instead of playing. He tended to watch the Quaffle, as that was where most of the action was, but after about thirty minutes he noticed Lydia giggling next to him. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"Look at the Seekers! It looks like they were both told to follow the other and they don't know what to do!"

Brook looked up at the two Seekers, and couldn't help laughing himself. Each Seeker was trying to get behind the other, so that they were flying in small circles around each other. Their attention was focused on their opponent and not looking for the Snitch, and both Lydia and Brook spotted it several times, while the two Seekers were totally unaware of it. The match was close, but finally ended when the Snitch just appeared in front of the Ravenclaw Seeker's face. The sudden appearance shocked him so much that he almost fell off his broom before he was able to grab it, giving Ravenclaw a 310-180 victory.

**********

The next few weeks were pure bliss as Ginny and Brook explored their new relationship, as well as several broom cupboards . Well, maybe not pure bliss, because there was one pang that jabbed him occasionally; he was not totally honest with her about his identity and his past. Dumbledore had told him to tell no one, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty. Brook visited the Headmaster to discuss this topic, explaining how he felt keeping this from her, but Dumbledore just reiterated the importance of maintaining the secret. His final point hit Brook really hard: Ginny knowing would put her safety at risk. He knew that he couldn’t do anything that would endanger her.

It didn’t help that Luna continued to whisper things to him about his secret in Ginny’s presence. Luna and Ginny had been friends for years, but he could still tell that Ginny didn’t like Luna whispering to Brook. She had asked him about it a few times, but he tried to push it off as just Luna being Luna. That worked at first, but as Luna kept doing it, there was more and more tension between Ginny and Brook.

It all came to a head one day in the Great Hall when Luna had whispered to him, “I think you should tell her your secret.”

This time, Ginny was close enough that she actually heard what she said. She turned red and said to Brook through tense lips, “What secret does she know that I don’t?”

“Ginny, I am really sorry, but Dumbledore made me promise that I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Hiding behind the Headmaster, huh? How does Luna know then?” Her voice was rising to just below a yell.

Brook shrugged. “You know Luna; she just knows things sometimes and can’t stop herself from saying what she thinks.”

Ginny huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “Are you going to tell me this secret or not? Can you at least tell me what it’s about?”

“I can’t. I want to, but I just can’t. I am sorry, but I will as soon as Dumbledore says I can,” pleading with her to understand.

“Well, I don’t want to have a boyfriend who keeps secrets with other girls. When you are ready to tell me the secret, then maybe I will be ready to consider being your girlfriend again!” She stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving Brook dejected. He looked up at Dumbledore, who had seen the whole exchange, along with the rest of the student body and faculty, with pleading in his eyes, but Dumbledore just shook his head. In addition to sadness at possibly losing Ginny, now he was angry at Dumbledore and he stormed out just like Ginny had.

Ginny wouldn’t talk to him for the next few days, no matter how he tried. Whenever he saw her, he could see the pain on her face, and that look hurt him more than the ache of his own heart. One evening he came into the common room and saw her talking to Hermione and could tell she had been crying. He felt a weight in his chest, seeing the pain he was causing her. When she noticed him, she ran up the stairs to the girls’ dorms before he could stop her. The boys’ dorm also became a tense place to be with both Ron and Dean giving him the silent treatment when he wouldn’t explain what had happened. Quidditch practice was a disaster as no one would talk to Brook, Ginny wouldn’t talk to anyone else, and Ron took out his anger at Brook on the rest of the team.

"Peakes, you call that Beating?” Ron growled. “Hit that Bludger like you mean it!” Frustrated at his captain, Peakes reared his arm back and hit the Bludger with all that he had, but with all the effort he put into it, his aim was off. Brook, who had looked down at Peakes when he heard the impact of the bat on the Bludger, saw that it was heading right for the back of Ginny’s head and that her attention was on attempting to get the Quaffle past Ron, so she had no idea it was coming right at her. Brook yelled, “Ginny, watch out!” as he pressed his body to his broomstick, accelerating in her direction. Just before the Bludger hit her, Brook extended his hand and slapped it away, feeling two snaps in his forearm as he did it. He looked down at his arm, which was no longer straight before pulling it against his body to protect it from jostling. As he alit on the ground gently, Ginny flew down and asked, “Brook, what did you do that for?”

Brook responded weakly, “I couldn’t let you get hurt,” grimacing in pain.

Ron had joined them by this time. “Mate, you better get to the hospital wing so Madam Pomfrey can heal that.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” replied Brook.

“Are you going to be okay getting there by yourself? You look a little peaky.”

“I’ll help him, Ron,” said Ginny. As they walked, she asked, “Are you sure you can make it? I can levitate you if you want.” Her obvious concern despite their argument caused a feeling of warmth go through him. I think she still cares for me; maybe we do have a chance, he thought.

“No, that’s alright, Ginny. I can make it.” But to be sure, she placed an arm around his waist to steady him. Brook felt a chill go up his spine at just this minor touch from her.

The rest of the trip was quiet, as neither knew what to say. Ginny ushered him into Madam Pomfrey, who asked, “What do we have here?”

“Mr Pelton took a Bludger at Quidditch practice and it looks like he broke his arm. I’ll leave you to it.” As she left, she added, “Thanks, Brook. I’m sorry you were hurt protecting me.”

“I’d do anything to keep you safe, Gin,” he responded as she walked away, too quietly for her to hear.

Madam Pomfrey quickly waved her wand, confirmed the fracture, and gave him a potion to drink. “That will heal you right up.”

Brook drank it down, but responded by gagging and saying, “Ugh, that’s horrible!”

“What did you expect, pumpkin juice?”

“Isn’t there a spell that can heal a fracture? I seem to remember coming across one in my reading this summer.”

“There is a spell, but it is not used by most healers because it is a tad temperamental. If done improperly, it can render the limb boneless.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“No, indeed it isn’t. It is a lot harder to regrow all the bones than to heal the original fracture. Now, I want you to stay overnight to make sure that everything knits properly, but you should be fine to go to breakfast. I’m sorry, but that means you’ll have to miss the Halloween feast.”

That night, Brook stared at the ceiling of the hospital wing, pondering his relationship with Ginny. He was floored by the depth of feeling he had for her in such a short time. He was brought back to his talk with Dad about how he knew that he loved Mom. As he replayed his father’s advice, he mentally checked off whether his feelings matched with what his dad had said. More interested in her happiness and well-being than my own? Yep; today’s events showed that. A smile that she has just for me? Yes, but I haven’t seen it for a few days, and the start of my day doesn’t feel right without it. A spark when we touch? Oh, yeah, even when she just put her arm around me to steady me on the way to Madam Pomfrey, I felt a chill. A feeling of loss when she isn’t there? That’s a definite yes. The last few days have demonstrated that to me in spades. Can’t imagine a future without her? Yes again. He had even caught himself daydreaming in class one day of a little cottage where the two of them would live, complete with a few red haired children flying around on broomsticks.

Well, it looks I am in love with Ginny Weasley. I guess I take after my parents with falling quickly and hard. Now, if I can just convince her to talk to me again without taking off my head. He rolled over, with a smile on his face as he dreamed again of that cottage.

Back to index


Chapter 17: Searching for the Past

Searching for the Past

The next day Brook awoke with a renewed optimism and desire to figure out how to get Ginny back. After being checked over one more time by Madam Pomfrey, he left the hospital wing in time to have breakfast. However, when he arrived in the Great Hall, Ginny was aloof again. She asked how he was, and when he responded that he was okay, she said good and walked down the table to sit with her roommates. Her cold shoulder brought back the disheartened feelings of the last few days.

Then in class, when he started taking notes and put the date on the top of his parchment, he realized that he had an additional reason to be depressed; it was the first of November. November first had always been a special day of celebration for his family; that was the anniversary of the day his parents had found him. They always had a bigger celebration on that day than for his birthday since they didn’t know exactly when his birthday was. He spent the whole day missing his parents and the way they would celebrate. He would come home after school, and they would drive to Columbus, the nearest large city, and have dinner at their favourite Thai restaurant. After dinner they would drive back home, retelling the story of their discovery of him on their porch and their battle to convince Child Protective Services to let them adopt him and how they named him after the initials on the blanket. Even though he knew it by heart, the story always reminded him of how much they loved him and how much they had given up to keep him.

As he was sitting on his bed with the curtains drawn, reminiscing while looking at pictures of his parents, he thought, If my parents found me on November first, it must mean that my birth parents must have died on October thirty-first! As he stared at his mom and dad, he realized that he should be mourning his birth parents as well, but he knew next to nothing about them. Professor McGonagall had told him a little, but he yearned for more. He didn’t even have any idea what they looked like. He remembered that Professor Dumbledore had said that his parents had been Head Boy and Girl and his father was a good Quidditch player. He had seen a trophy room on the third floor and wondered if there were any pictures of his parents there. He put on his Invisibility Cloak, slipped out of the dorm and through the common room. He saw Ginny there, looking as sad as he felt, and almost stopped to talk to her, but decided to continue on his mission. As he went through the portrait hole, she looked up, but when she didn’t see anything she went back to her studying.

He found the trophy room, removed his cloak, and began searching. He first found a plaque with a list of the Head Boys and Girls and found “Lily Evans, James Potter 1977-1978.” He touched their engraved names, and tears started to flow. He then looked through the Quidditch trophies and pictures of the late 1970s, until he found the picture for the 1977-1978 Gryffindor team. He found James Potter on the list of team members and looked at the person corresponding to the name. As he found the face, he gasped. It was like looking at a mirror of his old self, waving and mugging for the camera. Dumbledore and Mr Ollivander had said he looked just like his father, but here was the evidence. He had the same wild hair, the same face, even the same glasses, by coincidence. Occasionally, he would put rabbit ears behind one of his teammates, showing a mischievous grin that he had seen on his own face more than a few times. As he looked at the picture of the man who was his father, it was like the dam that he had been using to hold back his emotions all day burst, and he collapsed to the ground, sobbing as he acknowledged the hole in his heart from never knowing these two people who had given him life.

He had no idea how long he sat there crying and he didn’t pause until he felt a soft touch on his shoulder and heard Ginny ask, “Brook, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The compassionate look in her eyes tugged at his heart and he pulled her to him roughly and started sobbing again. She just held him, rocking him like he had done for her before, saying, “There, there. I’m here. I’m here.”

They sat like that for a few minutes until he calmed down. When he finally stopped crying, he looked at her and asked, “How did you find me?” He knew she hadn’t followed him since he was using the Invisibility Cloak.

“I was sitting in the common room and somehow I knew you were troubled. It's the same feeling I get in the middle of the night that makes me come down to see if you are in the common room after a nightmare. I still don't understand it, but I've learned to trust those feelings as most of the time there you are, sitting by yourself in front of the fire. Anyway, somehow I could feel you were there, but couldn’t see you. I felt like something was pulling me in certain directions, so I just followed those feelings until I heard you in here.” Brook started to ask her something, but she put a finger to his lips. “I want to say something first. I want to tell you I am sorry. Dean warned you about my temper and unfortunately now you have seen it. While I don’t like it that you are keeping a secret from me, if Dumbledore told you not to tell anyone, I can respect that. I promise I won’t push you to tell me until he says it is okay.

“Now, what about your tears? Can you tell me what is wrong?” she asked tenderly.

Brook hesitated for a moment while he thought. Finally, he sighed, having made the decision to trust her. “It’s all tied up with the secret; I need to talk to someone, and keeping this from you has been eating away at me.” He paused again before continuing. “So to hell with Dumbledore, I am going to tell you.” With a swish of his wand, he cast Locking, Silencing, and Imperturbable Charms on the doors to the room.

“Brook, you don’t have to. I can be patient, though it is against my nature,” she said with a smile.

That evinced a small chuckle from Brook. “No, I need to stop living this lie, at least with you. You see, I’m not who you think I am. Even my name is a lie.”

“You mean your name isn’t really Brook Pelton?”

“Well, it is and it isn’t.” Ginny got a perplexed look on her face. “I know, it’s confusing, so let me start at the beginning. Much of the story I told you on the Hogwarts Express is true, but not all of it. I really did grow up in America as Brook Pelton, a Muggle, with Mark and Angela Pelton as my parents. And I didn’t know that I was a wizard until a few months ago, after they were killed, but it wasn’t just an accident. Their car was attacked by an evil wizard and exploded. That’s how I learned that magic existed. Anyway, while I was raised there, I was adopted. You see, I was born here in Britain to a wizard and a witch, so it is not surprising that I am magical also. Both my birth parents were involved in the Wizarding War, and, when I was about fifteen months old, they were killed by an evil wizard, the most evil, Voldemort.” Ginny gasped at the saying of the name. “And he tried to kill me. Dumbledore doesn’t totally understand it, but when he tried to kill me, the spell backfired somehow, and Voldemort disappeared. But so did I. Some ancient magic caused me to be sent to my nearest living relatives, the Peltons in America. My birth mother and my adopted mother were second cousins.”

Brook could see the wheels turning in Ginny’s mind. “That would make you . . .” but she couldn’t finish the sentence as her jaw opened in astonishment.

“Yes, I am Harry Potter. And my parents were James and Lily Potter.”

“The Family-that-Died-So-We-Could-Live,” she whispered.

“Except that I didn’t die, as you can see. And neither did Voldemort. As a matter of fact, Dumbledore found me only due to the fact that Voldemort had sent a Death Eater to the U.S. to find any wizards that were my age and had black hair and green eyes and send them back here to Britain. For what reason, we don’t know. After finding one boy who met those characteristics at Salem, this Death Eater found me too and attempted to send me back here, too. Fortunately, he never told Voldemort about me, and Dumbledore had him Obliviated, but he still wants me to keep my existence a secret. So, he charmed my ring to change my appearance.” Brook took off his ring and Ginny gasped again, but was speechless. “The reason I was crying was that this is the anniversary of when my birth parents died and I came to my adopted parents. I came down here to see if I could find any pictures of my birth parents. And I did.” He stood up and pointed to Gryffindor House team photo. “Here is a picture of my father . . .”

“James Potter,” Ginny interrupted in a whisper. “You look just like your father, except you have green eyes. You’re the man in my dreams… not James,” she said barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Huh?” Brook asked, a bit mystified. “It’s nice to know I’m the man of your dreams, but why would you be dreaming about my father?”

Ginny continued to gaze at the photograph as she explained, “I have been having these dreams for the last few months when I am walking in a fog, looking for someone. Then the fog clears, and I see you, but I always thought it was James Potter. Your family is famous, and everyone knows what he looked like. So, when I see you, I say, ‘Ready? Let’s end this, together!’ And then we run off into the fog, and then I wake up. It is strange that the dream is so vivid; I never have any problems remembering even the details, like the colour of your eyes.” She was now looking into those eyes, her hands exploring his face. “Though, I have never noticed your scar; it must have been covered by your hair.” Her fingers travelled to the scar on his forehead, caressing it gently. “How did you get it?"

Now it was Brook’s turn to be astonished. “We think I got it when Voldemort hit me with the Killing Curse, because Dumbledore said I didn’t have it when he last saw me a few days before I disappeared and my parents described it as a fresh wound when they found me.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Most of the time it doesn’t, but sometimes I get these headaches that seem to be centred on the scar. The doctors have never been able to explain it fully.” He hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath. “Ginny, I have another secret to tell you; you are in my dreams also.”

“Well, I am not surprised; you are a teenaged boy, after all. Want to tell me about them?” with a naughty smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“No, not those kinds of dreams. Well, I do have those too,” he admitted, feeling his face heat uncomfortably, “but that’s not what I mean. I’ve been having the same dream as you, except from my point of view. The exact same thing, the same words, everything identical. Do you remember when we first met at the train station and how I was speechless?” Ginny nodded. “The reason I was so stunned was seeing you, the girl that I had been seeing in my dreams was real. And that’s not the only dream I’ve had about you. All my life, I’ve been dreaming about a ‘little red headed girl’; my parents would tease me about it because there is a comic strip character in America that is obsessed with a red headed girl. I think the girl I’ve been dreaming about must be you.”

“Me? Why do you think it was me?”

“I would just see this girl, about my age doing normal things like playing with dolls, helping with chores, and swimming in a pond. But often there would be odd things, like objects flying around the kitchen, or the girl throwing these things that look like potatoes with arms and legs out of the garden, what you described to me as garden gnomes in Hogsmeade. I thought they were just fanciful dreams, but now I think it was magic and not my imagination. Then as she grew, she went to school and started attending classes. I would see you sitting listening to lectures or walking around what I thought was a museum, which I thought was odd, but now I see that it must have been Hogwarts. Generally, when I had these dreams, I would feel this sense of peace during the dream and afterwards. But there was a period of time when the dreams were more like nightmares. The girl was always troubled and afraid, being forced to do things she didn’t want to do. When you told me about your first year, I started thinking, and it was the same time. That was what cemented the idea in my mind that I had been dreaming of you all my life. That is why I also had to get to know you and why I was so obsessed with you.”

“You were obsessed with me? Isn’t that a little strong?”

“Not really. I told you I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Well, I also changed my paths around the castle so I could see you in the hallways, and, did you notice that I was always in the library when you were? It wasn’t because I needed to study, but because you were there. I would also peek at you anytime I could, whether in the common room or at meals or even in class. Do you remember when Professor McGonagall took points away for me not paying attention in class? Well, that was because I was staring at you. That’s what her comment about me paying better attention in Transfiguration was about.”

“Yeah, I guess maybe you could call that obsessed,” she said with a little twinkle in her eyes. Then her eyes widened as something occurred to her. “Do you have any pictures of yourself growing up?”

“Yeah, I have a family photo album hidden at the bottom of my trunk. Why?”

“Well, I’ve been a little obsessed all my life too, with Harry Potter. I would always ask my parents to tell me his story when I was younger and I would dream of what he would have been like had he lived. Most of the time I would see him doing normal things as well, but sometimes I would see him riding in a car, or swinging what looked like a Beater’s bat in a weird costume, and I would be confused as to why my mind would create something like that. I always thought it was because of me liking the story, but maybe I’ve been actually dreaming of you as well. Maybe tomorrow you can show me your pictures to see if they match with my memories.”

Harry paused for a moment. “But what do these dreams mean? Why have we been dreaming about each other all these years? That isn’t normal in the Wizarding world, is it? And why are we now having the same dream that obviously hasn’t happened yet?”

“No, this isn’t normal in the Wizarding world; I’ve never heard of anything like this. I think we should talk to Dumbledore about this. But not right now. Now, I think we need to kiss and make up,” she said with that naughty smile back on her face. Ginny leaned into Harry as he put his arm around her, their lips meeting, resulting in tingling shocks going through their bodies.

“Mmmm,” murmured Brook as they separated.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” replied Ginny.

“Must have been while you were kissing me,” answered Harry.

Ginny pulled back and asked, “What was that?”

“Those are just the words to a song my parents liked from when they were younger. My parents would occasionally say that as a joke. I always thought it was lame, but now …” His voice trailed off.

Ginny pulled him toward her, allowing him to bury his face in her hair. “But now,” she finished, “it’s just another thing you miss about them, and it hurts.” He nodded against her neck as tears started to flow again.

They sat like this for a few minutes until Harry sat up, and sniffed. “Sorry about that; today has been a real emotional day.”

“It’s fine. I’ve come to realize that loving you is going to be a wild broomstick ride.”

After a short silence, Ginny said, “Brook, or should I say Harry? . . . Oh, bloody hell. What should I call you? This is so very weird!”

Brook thought for a moment. “I think I like you calling me Harry. You’re the only one who knows my secret and that can be your secret name for me. Adds a little intrigue to our relationship, don’t you think?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“I’d like that too. What I was starting to ask was how does Luna know about your secret? You certainly wouldn’t be crazy enough to tell her, are you?”

He shook his head. “I know better than that. You remember the glasses she was wearing on the Hogwarts Express? Those Spectrespecs, as she called them, can see through the charm on the ring, so she knows what I really look like. I have no idea if she recognizes me as Harry Potter or not, she just keeps whispering to me things like ‘I like you better as a brunette than a blonde,’ and ‘I love your green eyes.’ It drove me a little crazy worrying that she would slip, but what can you do about Luna? That’s just Luna being Luna.”

“I happen to agree with her; I like your real appearance much better than the fake one. Don’t get me wrong; I find you attractive as Brook,” she added quickly. “I know it sounds weird, but I always felt like there was something not quite right with the way you looked, like your personality didn’t really match your look. It was just a strange feeling.”

“Well, how about if, when we are alone, I take my ring off so I can be the real me?”

“If you’re sure you can handle me; you’re sexier like this and I don’t know if I can control myself.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he said as he enveloped her lips in his again.

A few minutes later, Harry pulled back and said, “As much as I enjoy kissing you, I think we should be getting back to the dorm. It’s after curfew and we don’t want to get in trouble.”

The couple helped each other up, but as Harry turned to leave, Ginny stopped him. She turned him towards her and put her arms on his. “Before we leave, I want to tell you how much it means to me that you are sharing this secret with me. I know I was upset about you keeping something from me, but now I see why you did. I’ve never had anyone trust me like you have in telling me this; it just deepens my feelings for you,” she said as tears started to pool in her eyes.

“Don’t cry, Gin. I had to tell you, I just couldn’t keep it from you any longer. You see, I know we haven’t known each other that long and it seems too early to say this, but I love you, Ginny Weasley, and I don’t want to keep anything from you anymore.”

“I love you, too, Harry Potter.” They kissed once more, a passionate expression of their love for each other.

It was fortunate that no one walked past the trophy room at that moment, because, outside the door, a soft glow could be seen coming through the cracks around it that would have given their location away.

A/N- Now that Harry/Brook will sometimes have his normal features, when I refer to him, I have chosen to call him the name that corresponds to his appearance at the time, similar to what Ginny is doing in the story. So, when he takes his ring off in Ginny’s presence, he will be Harry and when he is wearing his ring, he will be Brook. I know it will be a little confusing, but that seemed like the best solution to me.

Back to index


Chapter 18: Enigmas

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay, but my beta Arnel suggested a lot of changes to my original draft that took much longer to revise than usual. But hopefully the result was worth the wait.

I do want to thank Arnel again for all of her help. I submit what I think is a pretty good chapter, but she sees so many ways to make it better. When done, I am so much happier finished product, and I think you will be too.


Enigmas

After another short snogging session, Harry put his ring back on and they slipped back to the Gryffindor dorm under the Invisibility Cloak, a garment which completely amazed Ginny. “Those are really rare! Where did you get it?”

“I received it as a present on my birthday. The card said it was my father’s, but it wasn’t signed so I don’t know who gave it to me. I suspect Dumbledore, but he won’t admit to it.”

They made it back to the common room without incident. After they climbed through the portrait hole, Ginny said, “Since you showed me yours, let me show you mine. Wait here.” Ginny waggled her eyebrows at him as she turned to leave. She ran up to her dorm, leaving a very confused Brook, and came back with a parchment. “This is my method of getting around Hogwarts without getting caught.” She pulled it out, unfolded it, and then tapped it with her wand, saying, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” On the parchment appeared a map of Hogwarts. "See, it shows everyone's location in the castle. It has come in handy when sneaking around at night."

“Where did you get that?” asked Harry.

“The twins nicked the map from Filch’s office when they were students here, and handed it down to me when they left school.”

Ginny let out a gasp. “Look, here, in the Gryffindor common room, it shows me and Harry Potter, not Brook Pelton!”

Brook looked around quickly, even though he knew no one else was awake. He asked in a whisper, “Does anyone else know about this map?”

“Just the twins. Why?”

“We need to make sure no one else sees this, or my secret identity will be revealed.” He started to chuckle, which grew to a full-blown laugh.

“What is so funny?”

“It’s the phrase ‘secret identity’. Have you ever seen any superhero comic books?”

“The only comic books we have are ‘The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle.’ Ron loved them when he was younger."

“In Muggle America, the most common type of comic books is superheroes. These superheroes are people with special powers . . .”

“Like magic?” Ginny interrupted. She tapped the map and muttered something that sounded like, “Mischief managed,” and the parchment went blank as Brook began his explanation.

“Yeah, most of these powers could be like magic. Some are super strong, or invincible, or can run faster than light, or can climb walls, or even fly. There are as many powers as the authors can imagine. They use these powers to fight crime and they wear brightly coloured costumes, often with masks. They wear masks so that they can have a normal life when they are not fighting crime. The person they are when away from their superhero duties is called their secret identity. It just struck me as funny that I’m just like Superman or Spider-Man now with a secret identity.”

“Better not tell Ron about that Spider-Man character; he is scared to death of spiders,” grinned Ginny. “Good night, Harry,” she whispered. “Thanks again for being so open with me.” She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly before almost skipping up the stairs. Brook watched as she left, amazed at how lucky he was, and turned the opposite direction to go up to his dorm.

**********

The next day was a Sunday, so Ginny and Brook rose early and tried to see the Headmaster, but learned that he was away and would be gone for several days. They considered going to Professor McGonagall, but decided that since they had both been having these dreams for months, it could wait until he returned.

They next went to Brook’s room, pulled out his photo album from the bottom of his trunk, and went back to the Room of Requirement. Brook removed his ring and then spent the next few hours showing Ginny the pictures, telling as many stories of his family as he could remember. When they arrived at the pictures of his little league days, Ginny pointed and said, “That’s what I meant by a weird costume. What are you wearing? And why are you holding a Beater bat?”

“That is my baseball uniform and a baseball bat. Baseball is a sport I played in America and is very popular. Most of my friends played.” He tried to explain the game to her, but it was obvious she didn’t understand. “Maybe I can take you to a game sometime. It will make more sense then. Well, maybe it won’t; baseball is a little confusing.”

A few pages later, there was a picture of Brook and his dad next to the Mustang when they had finished restoring it. “I remember that car!” Ginny exclaimed excitedly. “I always thought it was strange that I would dream of Harry Potter driving a car, never mind working underneath it.”

Harry sighed wistfully. “That picture brings back a lot of good memories. My dad and I did a lot of bonding over that car. Maybe when I take you to a baseball game, we can try to find a fun car to drive, too.”

“I’d like that. I would like to see all of this, your hometown, your house, your friends. It’s obvious that they are such an important part of your life.”

“Think we can convince your parents to let you come on a visit across the pond this summer?”

“Maybe. We’ll just have to see.”

Harry also told her the story of how he learned about magic. His description of his collision with Tonks caused Ginny to laugh. “I’m not surprised; she’s forever ending up on the ground, tripping over something or other. How she got through Auror training with her clumsiness, I’ll never understand.”

“Yeah, I had learned that over the summer. She was one of my tutors, helping me with Defence.”

When he told her about his parents’ accident, while she was comforting him, she said, “I’ve heard the name Avery before. Dark family, at least two supposed Death Eaters, but they were among the group that claimed they were Imperiused during the war and were not punished. How could anyone believe that codswallop?”

The morning went quickly, and the reunited couple revelled in their new closeness, taking several snogging breaks before leaving for lunch. They greeted their friends in the Great Hall, holding hands. The rest of the Gryffindor house was relieved to see Brook and Ginny back together. Ron and Dean both questioned Brook as to what changed, and Brook answered, “We worked out our differences,” and left it at that. While they wanted to know more, he wouldn’t reveal any more.

After lunch, Ron challenged Brook to a game of wizard chess in the common room. Brook had been experiencing a nagging ache centred in his forehead for about an hour that tended to distract him, but with Ginny giving helpful hints occasionally, he was able to hold his own. Suddenly the pain grew exponentially, causing Brook to collapse to the ground, writhing in pain. At first, he thought it was just another migraine, but the pain was much worse than his usual headaches. He closed his eyes against agony.

After a few seconds of excruciating pain, Brook he opened his eyes and found himself in a dark room. The walls were covered in dark Victorian era wallpaper and the windows were covered by heavy curtains. It was lit by sconces similar to those in Hogwarts and a fireplace at the other end of the room. The entire appearance of the room gave it an eerie quality that reminded Brook of old horror movies.

Brook’s attention was pulled to a man who was on his knees before him. “Lord, I’ve tried my best. The potion just won’t work.” White hot anger pulsed through Brook as he stared at the prostrated man before him.

“What do you mean you can’t get the potion to work?” Brook demanded in a high, cold voice. “I gave you all the necessary ingredients; you are supposed to be a Potions Master! Why can’t you get it to work?” He pointed his wand at the other man and yelled “Crucio!

The man fell to the ground and rolled up into the foetal position as he screamed in pain. After about thirty seconds, he released the spell, and the other man stopped screaming and lay shaking for several seconds. He took several ragged breaths before getting back on his knees.

“Do you have any answer for me?” Brook demanded.

The man’s head rose and when his face was in view, Brook could see it was Snape. “My Lord, it seems obvious that none of these boys are your true enemy, the real Harry Potter, so their blood isn’t able to make the potion work properly.”

His eyes roamed the room and caught the eyes of another Death Eater Brook recognized. “Avery! You have failed again! Crucio! ” The man writhed on the ground for a few moments before being released. “If you fail to find the correct boy next time, it will be the last thing you do!" His eyes crossed the room, taking notice for the first time of a teenaged boy with black hair shackled to the wall. He seemed to be unconscious, but his body was covered by bruises and abrasions. His eyes focused on a laceration that stretched the length of his forearm which was dripping blood. Looking back at Avery and pointing at the boy he ordered, "Now take care of that imposter!”

Suddenly, Brook was back in common room, lying on the floor, his hand pressing against his forehead. He felt very weak and nauseous, covered in sweat, and as he tried to sit up, he realized that he didn’t have the strength to rise.

“Are you okay, mate?” asked Ron.

“No, I’m not. I think I’m going to throw up, but I don’t think I can make it to the toilet. Can you help me, Ron?” Brook panted.

Ron put Brook’s arm over his shoulder and helped him up the stairs, but they only made it halfway before Brook vomited. When he had emptied his stomach, he said, “Sorry I couldn’t hold it any longer.”

“No worries,” said Ron. He waved his wand and Vanished the sick before they continued to the bathroom. They barely made it before Brook vomited again, followed by some dry heaves. When he was finished, he tried to sit up, but was still too lightheaded and just lay down, enjoying the feel of the cold tile on his face.

After a few moments the door to the loo opened a little and Hermione’s voice came through the crack, “Is everyone decent? Can Ginny and I come in to check on Brook?”

“Yeah, you can come in,” said Brook weakly.

Hermione came in, but was pushed to the side as Ginny rushed past her in her haste to reach Brook, putting his head in her lap and running her fingers through his hair. She kept saying, “It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.”

Brook looked up into her eyes and said, “Thanks, Ginny, that feels good.”

Hermione conjured a damp flannel which she gave to Ginny who put it on Brook’s forehead, prompting Brook to groan in relief. He tried to sit up again, but Ginny pushed his head back down in her lap, saying, “Just relax, Brook. Take your time.” She continued to run her fingers through his hair with one hand while she held on to one of hands with the other.

A little later, Brook sat up, taking a drink from a glass of water Hermione offered. “Thanks, Hermione.” He took the flannel from Ginny and wiped his face and mouth, before leaning his head back against Ginny’s shoulder and rested some more. After a few more minutes, he opened his eyes and took a few deep breaths, sitting up on his own and rubbing his eyes.

Hermione then asked, “Are you up to telling us what happened, Brook?”

“I think so. But is it okay if we have this conversation in our dorm? The loo isn’t the best place to talk.”

Ron chuckled, and helped Brook up. The two couples left the bathroom and went over to the beds. Brook and Ginny sat against Brook’s bed-board while Ron and Hermione sat on Ron’s bed.

Brook cleared his throat. “Before I start, what did you three see?”

Ginny answered, “You were playing chess, and I noticed that you were occasionally rubbing your forehead and scowling. Then, suddenly you were on the floor in obvious pain, and we couldn’t get you calmed down. You stayed there for a few minutes; we weren’t sure what to do. We almost sent someone to get Madam Pomfrey, but then you came to and you asked Ron to help you upstairs.”

“I didn’t go anywhere? I was here the whole time?”

The three friends looked at each other, puzzled. “No, mate, you were in the common room the whole time,” replied Ron. “Why do you ask?”

“That’s a relief. For a moment I thought I was the victim of some type of evil Portkey.” He took a deep breath. “Well, I guess I had the worst migraine ever.”

“What’s a ‘migraine’?” asked Ron.

Brook closed his eyes for a moment before looking over at Hermione. “Could you explain what they are for me?”

Hermione smiled at him and explained, “Sure. Migraines are a name that Muggle physicians give to a type of severe headache that are caused by spasms of arteries in the brain. Typically they are associated with nausea and sensitivity to bright lights and loud sounds. Often people have to lie down in a dark, quiet room and just sleep them off. Sometimes they are associated with visual or sensory hallucinations, called auras. Have you had them before, Brook?”

“Yeah, I’ve had them periodically over the last two years, but nothing as severe as this one. Sometimes I have an aura, but in the past I would hear the sound of laughing or yelling. Rarely, I see a blurry image, but I can never make out what it is. I guess what must have been an aura was totally different this time. It felt like I was actually somewhere else. That’s why I asked if I went anywhere because it was as if I had been transported to another place and was observing a scene through someone else’s eyes. It was like I was someone else.”

“What did you see?” asked Hermione.

“I was yelling at a man about a potion he made not working and then I hit him with a spell. What does Crucio do?”

Hermione glanced over at Ron with an obviously worried look, before answering, “That is the Cruciatus Curse, one of the Unforgivable Curses. It causes excruciating pain.”

“That makes sense, since it looked like the man was in severe pain. Well, I released the spell, and the man looked up at me and it was Snape! Snape then said . . .” he hesitated a moment. “Um, he said something I didn’t really understand. And then I cast the same curse on someone else. Then, all of a sudden I was back in the common room with you.”

“Snape? Why are you seeing that git in your vision? Isn’t it enough that you have to deal with him in class?” asked Ron.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was just a really vivid aura, although I’ve never heard of auras like that.”

“What exactly did Snape say?” asked Hermione. “Maybe we can help you figure it out.”

Brook hesitated again before saying, “I just can’t remember it well. The severe pain blurs my memory.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Brook. I didn’t mean to push you. But I do think you need to tell Dumbledore about this,” said Hermione. “It certainly is strange; maybe he can help you figure it out.”

Ginny said, “He’s out of the castle for a few days.”

Ron and Hermione looked at Ginny questioningly. “How do you know that?” asked Ron.

“Brook and I tried to see him this morning,” she told him. She looked at Brook and said, “I guess that adds another thing to talk to him about, Brook.”

“What else are you going to ask him about?” asked Hermione.

“We can’t really say,” Brook said. “There are things that Dumbledore has asked me to keep a secret. Maybe someday he’ll let me tell you.”

“But Ginny knows? Why does she get to know and not us?” asked Ron.

“Well,” started Brook sheepishly, “she sort of forced it out of me. Dumbledore doesn’t know that she knows yet. I’ll probably get in trouble, but it was worth it,” he added, smiling over at Ginny and giving her shoulder a squeeze. He then let out a huge yawn and turned back to Ron and Hermione, “I’m exhausted. Is it okay if I take a nap?”

“You do that, Brook. It looks like that’s exactly what you need,” said Hermione. “See you later. Are you coming, Ginny?”

“I think I’ll stay until Brook falls asleep, if that’s okay with you, Brook.”

Brook smiled and nodded while Ron and Hermione left the room. Ginny helped Brook get under his covers, tucked him in and continued to rub his hair gently. He relaxed a little under her ministrations, but suddenly frowned as a question occurred to him. “Ginny, I thought there was an alarm on the dorms that kept the opposite sex out. How did you and Hermione get up here?”

She giggled and explained, “Oh, that alarm does exist on the girls’ side, but I guess they are not as concerned about girls coming up to the boys’ dorms. They may tell us there is an alarm for both sets of dorms, but the older students all know that there isn’t one on the boys.”

“Well, I’m glad that you can come up here, because I like this. Care to join me?” he asked, pulling back the covers.

“Just for a few minutes. And don’t get any ideas, Potter,” Ginny whispered as she lay down and snuggled next to him. “Just because I’m in your bed, no funny business. Keep your hands to yourself.”

“You’re no fun,” pouted Brook, but then he smiled. “Snuggling is just fine with me. I'm not sure I'm up for more right now anyway.”

As they cuddled with each other, Ginny pulled out her wand, drew the curtains on his bed and cast a Silencing Charm. She then turned back to him and started slowly running her hand through his hair to relax him. “Now, Harry, tell me what you left out.”

“Huh?”

“I could tell you were evading Hermione’s questions. She may have fallen for that ‘severe pain’ claim, but I know you better than that. Come on, tell me.”

Harry pouted a little. “It did hurt, though.”

“I know it did; I’m not doubting that, but you’re still hiding something.”

“Well, what Snape really said was that the potion didn’t work because none of the boys were the real Harry Potter, and that their blood couldn’t restore him. I think I now know why Voldemort sent that Death Eater to find boys that looked like me; he is using their blood in the potion. But I don’t know what the potion is supposed to do. And the second man he tortured was Avery, the man who killed my parents and attempted to kidnap me. At the end, I saw a boy about my age with black hair and I told Avery to get rid of the boy. I think that they are planning on killing him.”

Ginny was quiet for a moment, chewing her lip. “It looks like we’re just going to have to keep your secret then, so he can’t get your blood, whatever he wants it for. Hermione was right; we really do need to tell Dumbledore about this.”

“You’re right, Ginny,” he replied, but her name barely made it out of his mouth as he was quickly falling asleep. Ginny smiled at the contented look on his face as she snuggled in closer and started to doze herself.

**********

A few hours later, Ron and Hermione were in the common room with most of the rest of the house doing their homework. Colin came from the boys’ dorm and said, “Ron, something weird is happening. When I came out of my room, I looked up and saw that the door to the seventh years’ dorm was glowing!”

Flinging a quick, “Thanks, Colin,” over his shoulder, Ron dashed up the stairs to investigate, Hermione close behind, both of their wands at the ready. When they reached the top of the stairs, they saw the light that Colin had described. Hermione waved her wand at the door, and finding nothing wrong with it, she reached for the knob and opened the door. They were blinded by a bright white light coming out of the room, and shielded their eyes with their arms.

“Oi, bloody hell!” exclaimed Ron.

“Language, Ronald!” admonished Hermione.

The light started to fade and as their eyes adjusted and they could see, they saw Ginny and Brook in bed, both blushing and trying to straighten their clothes and smooth down their hair. Around Ginny and Brook was a fading glow, which eventually disappeared after a few seconds.

“Ginny, what are you doing in Pelton’s bed! Get out of there this instant!” Ron strode over to Brook’s bed and grabbed Brook’s shirt, lifting him up and pulling his arm back to punch him. As his fist approached Brook’s face, he was suddenly thrown across the room, hitting the wall and coming to rest on the floor.

Brook sat gaping as Hermione hurried over to check on Ron. He shook his head, and asked, “What just happened?”

Brook, followed by Ginny, cautiously walked over to Ron. Everything came out in a rush as Brook pleaded, “Ron, I am sorry. I don’t know what happened; it was just like on the train with Draco and his goons. I didn’t do it on purpose. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. But what were you and Ginny doing in bed?” he asked angrily.

Brook looked down, embarrassed. “Ginny was helping me relax so I could nap, but we both must have fallen asleep.” He felt his face get warm. “When we woke up, Ginny and I just got a little carried away; sorry you had to see that.”

“Actually, we didn’t see anything,” said Hermione. “All we could see was a blinding light when we came in. Eventually, the light faded and we could see that the two of you were making the light. I’ve never heard of anything like it.”

“Are you making a list, Brook? Another thing to ask Dumbledore about,” said Ginny.

“I don’t want to find my sister in my mate’s bed ever again! Do you hear me, Pelton? Ginny?” growled Ron.

“We’ll try not to let it happen again,” promised Brook.,/p>

Ron’s face broke out in a grin. “Since it looks like I’m not able to do anything about it myself without getting hurt, if it does happen again, I’ll just let Mum know what I saw and let her deal with it,” teased Ron.

Ginny, a scowl developing on her face, growled angrily, “You wouldn’t!”

“Yes, I would. But if I don’t catch you in here again, you won’t have to worry about it,” smiled Ron.

*********

Two days later, Brook was working with Remus as usual. “Brook, your shields and other defensive spells are excellent, so I want to work on something else today. What is the major drawback to using a shield spell in a duel?”

“You can’t fire any other spells while you have the shield up,” replied Brook.

“Exactly. So, today I want to work on avoiding the spells themselves through agility. It may not be using magic, but it is very effective when you are good at it and will still allow you to fire spells back. Aurors spend a lot of time in this part of their training, or so I’ve heard. What we are going to start with is that I will fire hexes and spells at you and all I want you to do is to avoid them. No returning any spells now, but as you get better, we’ll add that in. I do want you to hold your wand though, as if you were ready to fire a spell. Alright, stand over there. Ready?”

Brook nodded and assumed a defensive crouch, readying himself for the spells. Remus fired hex after hex at him and he was able to avoid them all. It reminded Brook of paintball; he was always good at avoiding being hit. After a few minutes, Remus said, “Wow, Brook, you’re a natural at this. I guess I’ll need to raise things up a notch.”

Remus’ face showed determination as he started aiming hexes at him with a speed that Brook had never seen from him before, but Brook was able to continue to dodge everything that was thrown at him. However, after several minutes of constantly diving and jumping, he started to tire. Remus then fired a Disarming Charm at him. Brook was able to avoid most of the spell, but the edge of it caught his right hand, disarming him and spinning him around, landing him on his stomach. As he got up, he looked at Remus and said, “Good shot!”

Remus was standing there, staring at Brook with his mouth open. “James,” he said, in shock. Brook looked down at his right hand and saw that his ring was no longer there. He realized that the Disarming spell must have caused his ring to come off as well.

“Remus, I am not James,” explained Brook. “I am Harry, his son.”

“You can’t be! You’re dead!” He grabbed Harry by his shirt, lifted him up, and held his wand in Brook’s face. “Who are you and what kind of trick is this?”

“Look at me, Remus. I look like James, but I have Lily’s eyes, see?”

Remus looked closely at Harry’s face, staring at his eyes. The look of rage on Remus’ face gradually changed to one of astonishment. “Harry, is it really you?”

Harry nodded and Remus let go of his shirt, dropped his wand, and grabbed Harry into a hug. After a while, Remus pulled back and Harry could see tears in his eyes as he asked, “How can this be?”

Harry explained Dumbledore’s theory about how the Killing Curse had rebounded off him, causing Voldemort to lose his physical form and sending Harry to America to his closest relatives. After answering the questions that he could, Harry asked Remus, “Did you know my parents well? You have reacted to this news much more emotionally than others who have learned it.”

“Your parents and I were best friends. As a matter of fact, there were four of us blokes who were Gryffindors together, and we were inseparable. Then, James finally convinced Lily to go out with him after years of trying, and when they fell in love she joined our little group. I was in your parents’ wedding, I was there at St. Mungo’s when you were born, and I was one of your first babyminders. I loved playing with you when you were a baby. When your parents were killed and you disappeared and then with the events the day after, I had lost everyone I cared about.”

“What do you mean the events the day after? What happened to your other two friends?”

“How much do you know about how Voldemort found your birth parents?”

“Nothing, really. I know they went into hiding when Voldemort was after them. I just assumed he found their hiding place.”

“It was more complicated than that. See, they placed a spell called the Fidelius Charm, which prevents anyone from finding the place unless they have been told by a person called the Secret Keeper. Only the Secret Keeper can reveal the location; others can know the location but cannot tell anyone. One of our friends, Sirius, was the Secret Keeper, but he betrayed your parents and told Voldemort where they were. The day after your parents were killed, Sirius killed our other friend, Peter, along with twelve Muggles, and was sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban, the Wizarding prison. So in a twenty-four hour period, three of my best friends were dead, I thought you were dead as well, and my other friend was in prison for either killing them or causing their death. There were times I was so depressed I considered suicide.”

“I am so sorry." Harry's face brightened suddenly. "So, if you knew my parents so well, you could tell me about them. Tell me stories? Ever since I learned I was adopted, I've yearned for information about my birth parents. I've learned a little from Professor McGonagall, but I suspect that you could tell me so much more.”

A smile crossed Remus’ face. “I have so many stories; I would love to tell you about them. It would be my pleasure to help you to learn more about them.”

They heard a knock on the door. Brook quickly said “Accio ring,” and put it back on so that he reassumed his Brook appearance. He then unlocked the door with his wand and Ron and Hermione came in. “Coming to dinner, Brook?”

“Yeah, I’ll be with you in a minute. I’ll meet you in the Great Hall.”

After they had left, Brook turned to Remus and said, “I really do want to spend some more time talking to you and hearing about my parents. Maybe each week you could share a story or two while we are taking breaks.”

“I would enjoy that. In the meantime, I am going to put an additional charm on your ring, so that only you can take it off. We don’t want a repeat of what just happened.”

**********

That evening was another DA meeting. Remus had been unable to stay and lead, citing a stubborn woman who wouldn't accept no for an answer. The group was practicing duelling in pairs and Ginny and Brook had drawn Neville and Hannah Abbott. They had requested that the Room of Requirement simulate a wooded area, complete with trees, bushes, and boulders to use as protection and cover. Brook was reminded of all of the paintball battles he had experienced over the years. The spells were now flying quickly between the four, they were so evenly matched. At one point, Brook was behind a rock while Ginny was using a nearby tree for cover. Neville hit the tree with a Reducto and the tree trunk snapped and was starting to fall over. Ginny ran toward the rock where Brook was and had to dive at the last moment to avoid another hex from Neville. Brook helped Ginny up and still had his arm around her waist to support her when he noticed that Neville was leaving his protection and was momentarily vulnerable. He shot a Disarming Spell at Neville, but Neville saw it coming and put up a shield. But when Brook’s spell hit it, Neville’s shield just shattered and he was thrown thirty feet through the air until he slammed into a tree and was knocked out.

Ron yelled, “Stop duelling!” and they all went to check on Neville. With a Renerverate he came to.

“Are you alright, Neville? I didn’t mean to hit you that hard,” said Brook.

“I think I’m okay, just a little sore,” Neville replied as he carefully moved his arms and legs, checking to make sure he had no other injuries.

Ginny looked over at Hermione at that instant, who she could tell was working out a problem in her brain. “Interesting,” Ginny heard Hermione mumble.

After a few more duels, the DA session was over and, after everyone else had left, Hermione shared her thoughts with Ginny, Brook, and Ron. “I’ve been doing some research on the light we saw the other day and I want to do some tests and ask you some questions.” She took out her wand and dimmed the lights in the room. “Ginny and Brook, I want you to hold hands and, Ron, watch for anything unusual.” As they entwined their fingers, Ron and Hermione both noticed a subtle glow around the couple.

“What is that?” asked Ron.

“I’ll explain after a few other tests. Now you two, hug each other.” The glow brightened a little. “Okay, now I want you to kiss.”

Ginny whispered to Brook, “I like these tests,” before kissing him. The glow brightened even more.

“As I was expecting. One last thing, I want you to really kiss, passionately.”

“You mean you want them to snog right in front of us?” asked Ron.

“I don’t know if we can do that, Hermione. It just doesn’t feel right to do that when we aren’t alone,” said Brook.

“Can you just try? I know it will be awkward, but I would really like to see what happens. Just try to ignore that we are here.”

Ron said, “I can’t watch this,” and turned around.

Brook and Ginny held each other closely and their lips met. Their lips parted slightly and then Brook felt the tease of Ginny’s tongue touch his lips. He opened wider and allowed her entrance and their tongues touched and started to dance. Brook felt that tingling and heat return to his whole body and started to forget that Hermione and Ron were there as he lost himself in her. They were brought back to reality by a “That’s enough! You can stop.”

After catching their breath, Brook, with a smile on his face, asked, “What is this telling you? What are you seeing?”

“When you touch each other, you have a glow around you and as your contact becomes closer and more passionate, the glow gets brighter and brighter. On the last test, you were emitting enough light that we needed to put on sunglasses. Do you two see it at all?”

“No, I don’t notice anything,” said Ginny and Brook agreed. “But as things get more . . . let’s say passionate, I do feel a heat building through my whole body, but I thought that was just because of our strong feelings for each other.”

“I feel the same, but quite frankly, I’ve never felt anything like that heat or warmth before with other girls,” added Brook.

“And just how many girls have you snogged, Brook?” asked Ginny with an eyebrow raised.

Brook blushed. “Well, just the one really, but it was nothing like when I am with you.”

Hermione then asked, “Have either of you had any dreams or visions of the other?”

“I really don’t want to hear about those. This is my sister you are talking about Hermione!” said Ron.

“Not those kinds of dreams. Anything unusual?”

Brook and Ginny looked at each other for a moment, and then Brook answered reluctantly. “Well, we have just put together that we seem to have been dreaming about each other’s lives since we were very young. And both of us have been having the same dream for a few months now, just from our own perspective where I’m waiting for someone and Ginny appears out of the fog. She grabs my hand and says we are going to finish something together. We don’t know what we are supposed to finish, but we have both been having them long before we knew each other.”

Hermione looked at Ginny for a moment with a quizzical look on her face and then continued. “That fits. Okay. Brook, I want you to do a Disarming Charm on Ron. Ron, stand over there,” Hermione directed.

Expelliarmus! ” said Brook and Ron’s wand flew into Brook’s hand.

“Okay, now, do it again, but this time hold Ginny’s hand while you do the spell.”

Brook grasped Ginny’s hand and repeated, “Expelliarmus!” This time Ron was thrown across the room by the force of the spell.

“That helps to explain what happened when you were duelling with Neville. You were helping Ginny up when you hit him with the spell that threw him into that tree. Next, while holding her hand, make a shield." Brook said “Protego” and a shield just like he had cast at the train station appeared.

"Now, we know how you saved Ginny at the beginning of the year. You had your arm around her when you cast the shield, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I think I did."

"All right, think back to the train ride when your accidental magic threw Malfoy across the compartment. Was Ginny touching you then?"

As Brook tried to remember, Ginny said, "I remember that I was trying to hold you back and telling you that he wasn't worth the trouble you would get in for fighting."

"And all four of us know that the two of you were touching when Ron was thrown across the room on Sunday. I think I know what is going on.”

“What is it, Hermione?” asked Brook and Ginny simultaneously.

“It looks like you have something called a Soul Bond. I was able to find a book on old magic in the Restricted Section that mentioned this connection between two people. It seems you were destined to be together, and as your love for each other grows, your connection will grow. Physical contact causes an aura to glow around you and also greatly increases your magical power.”

“I thought that was just a bit of gibberish in romance novels,” said Ron.

“No, it is real. Just very rare,” responded Hermione.

“What else do you know about it?” asked Brook.

“That’s all I’ve had a chance to learn so far, but now that my suspicions have been confirmed, I’ll do some more research. We should get back to the dorm. It’s getting late and we don’t want to be caught by Filch.”

Ron and Brook were walking ahead, talking about Quidditch practice, when Hermione pulled Ginny back out of the boys’ hearing. “What’s this about dreaming about Brook?” whispered Hermione. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about it? You tell me about those silly dreams about Harry Potter if he lived, but not about Brook?”

Ginny gulped. How am I going to cover this? “Um, I guess it was just a little embarrassing having dreams about another boy, one that I had never met. And it was worse when I did meet him, especially since I was dating Dean. And I wasn’t sure what it meant.”

“Oh. Okay, I guess I understand.”

When she returned the sixth year girls’ dorm, Ginny let out a sigh of relief. I hope she didn’t catch on; you never know with Hermione. We’ll have to be extra careful around her.

Back to index


Chapter 19: Before the Headmaster

Author's Notes: Thanks to Arnel for more wonderful beta work. This story is so much better with your input.


Before the Headmaster

The next day, Brook and Ginny saw Dumbledore at the faculty table during dinner and asked to speak to him that evening.

When they were seated in the chairs in his office, Dumbledore said, “I was expecting you to come talk to me when I returned Brook, but I wasn’t expecting you to bring Miss Weasley as well. How can I help you?”

Brook fidgeted in his chair for a moment before answering, not really sure where to start. Might as well begin with the worst. “Well, there are a number of things that have sort of been building up over the last several days. First, I know you told me not to tell anyone, but Ginny knows my secret. I really needed someone to talk to about all this, and you saw how it was affecting our relationship. Last week, on the anniversary of my birth parents’ death, I found some pictures of my dad in the trophy room, and I just lost it, finally seeing what others have told me about looking just like him. Ginny found me, and comforted me, and wanted to know what was wrong. So I told her.”

Dumbledore sighed and surveyed Harry over the tops of his half-moon glasses. “I guess I knew this day would be coming soon when you would tell one of your friends; I had just hoped to delay it as long as possible. Miss Weasley, you do understand how important it is for this to remain a secret, don’t you? If this was to get out, Death Eaters and Voldemort himself will be after Harry.”

“I do understand, sir, and I won’t tell anyone. Harry can trust me,” she said as she squeezed his hand and looked at him lovingly.

“You mentioned there were several things. What’s next?” asked Dumbledore.

“Well, Ginny’s not the only one who knows. Professor Lupin knows too,” Brook said, a little embarrassed.

The headmaster’s eyes twinkled. “And how did this happen?”

“He hit my right hand with a Disarming Charm, and in addition to taking my wand from my hand, it also caused my ring to come off. When he saw me without the ring, he at first thought I was his friend James, but I explained everything. He then put an additional charm on the ring so that only I can take the ring off; no one else can remove it either by hand or by spell.”

Dumbledore nodded in appreciation of Remus’ idea. “That’s a good thought. I should have foreseen that problem. It is fortunate that it occurred during your tutoring session and not during class or a DA meeting. Actually, Remus knowing will make things easier in some ways.”

“I agree, but I thought you would want to know.” Brook looked over at Ginny, hoping for some encouragement, before starting. She gave him a little smile and nod, which gave him the reassurance he needed to move on. “The next thing concerns both Ginny and me. Hermione has been doing some research on some strange occurrences and thinks we may be Soul Bonded.”

The headmaster’s eyes twinkled again and his lips turned up at the corners just a little. “There is many a young couple that thinks they may be Soul Bonded. After all, it is a very romantic notion. What makes Hermione think this for you two?”

“First, we have been dreaming of each other all our lives. I’ve been seeing this red haired girl and Ginny has been dreaming of Harry Potter. We’ve looked at some pictures of us when we were younger and our dreams match how we looked at those stages of life. Now we are having the same dream about each other from our own point of view–it’s been happening for several months–long before we knew each other. I recognized Ginny right away from my dream when I first met her at platform nine and three quarters. Ginny had thought she was dreaming about James Potter; she had always been very interested in the Family-Who-Died, so she didn’t think much of it. But when I revealed my real appearance, she realized that it was actually me.”

“That is curious,” said Dumbledore. “What other clues do you have?”

“When we have any physical contact, our magic is stronger. Has Remus told you about my questions concerning my shield at the events on the platform on September first?” Dumbledore nodded, so Brook continued, “We’ve discovered that if we are touching, any spell we use is much stronger than normal. I had my arm around her waist when I cast that shield on the platform.”

“May I see your shield?”

Brook took Ginny’s hand and they stood up, before Brook said “Protego.”

The Headmaster stood up as well and walked around them, inspecting the shield “Interesting. I’ve never seen a shield like this. Instead of just a barrier in front of you, it actually surrounds you.”

Brook and Ginny looked over their shoulders and saw that the shield did indeed encircle them. “We hadn’t noticed that before,” said Ginny.

“Any spell that we do is like that, so much stronger that it shouldn’t be possible,” Brook added. “And, there is also a glow or an aura around us when we touch that we can’t see, but others can. The more heated the contact becomes, the brighter the light.”

“Can you show me?”

Ginny and Harry looked at each other, both thinking, Not again! They started by just holding hands. “You need to dim the lights to see it at this level,” Ginny said.

Dumbledore lowered the flames in the candles until he could see the glow. “Ah, I see it now.”

Then Ginny and Harry kissed, causing the glow to brighten. “Do we have to go to the next step? It really is a little embarrassing to snog in front of the Headmaster,” said Harry.

The professor chuckled. “No, I think you have shown me enough. How bright does the light get?”

Brook hesitated to answer, but said quietly, “One time we were in my dorm room and they could see the glow in the stairwell leading up to the boys’ dorms.”

“That is quite bright; may I assume that my saying that female students are not allowed in the boys’ dormitories and that this should not occur again will be enough of a reprimand for the two of you?” asked Dumbledore, with a wink.

“Oh, yes sir,” said Ginny. “I was only up there because Harry was feeling poorly after an episode which is the last thing we want to talk about.”

Dumbledore walked back around his desk and sat down again. “What was this episode?”

Brook and Ginny also took their chairs before Brook explained. “I have had a history of migraine headaches for a few years now. The headache always seems to be focused in my scar. Sometimes the headache is associated with a sensation of laughter or yelling, but the doctors back home always called those an aura, which is a neurologic symptom that typically occurs before a migraine headache. My sensations always occurred during the headache itself. Once, just before you came to see me, I actually could make out what the voice was yelling. I haven’t had any since coming to school, that is, until last weekend. This one was much worse than any of my others and, this time, it was as if I was someone else, seeing through his eyes, and feeling everything he was feeling.”

“Tell me what you saw.”

“I was yelling at someone about some potion that he couldn’t brew correctly. I then performed the Cruciatus Curse on him for a period of time. When this man recovered and he looked up, I saw that it was Professor Snape.”

This caught the headmaster’s attention and he leaned forward. “When was this exactly?”

“Sunday afternoon, maybe two or two-thirty,” said Brook, a little confused. “Why does it matter?”

“I can explain that later. Tell me exactly what you remember saying and what Professor Snape said.”

“Before the curse, I said something like, ‘What do you mean you can’t get the potion to work? I gave you all the necessary ingredients.’ Then I cursed him and asked if he had any explanation. Then Snape responded by saying that none of the boys were the real Harry Potter, so their blood was not the blood of the enemy, and thus wouldn’t work. I guess we now know why Avery was sent to America to kidnap boys that looked like me. They were trying to find me so that my blood could be used in this potion. I then cursed Avery, the man who killed my parents, and told him to find the real Harry Potter next time or he would be killed. The other thing that confused me was that everyone referred to me as 'Lord' and was bowing before me like I was their ruler or something. Then the vision ended and my headache started to improve. Do you know what all this means?”

“I have a suspicion,” Dumbledore said as he leaned forward in his chair. “Let me explain. Professor Snape used to be a Death Eater during the first Wizarding War, but then he switched allegiances and acts as a spy for our side now. This past Sunday, he was with Voldemort.” Both Harry and Ginny’s eyes widened. “You see, Voldemort has indeed returned to England, but he is now in an immature form and is trying to regain his full body. He has been using Professor Snape to make a potion that can allow him to do this, but it has not been working. Professor Snape has been helping enough to look like he is still working with Voldemort, but has been sabotaging the potion to prevent him from returning to his full form. I have not been back long enough to get a full report from Professor Snape, but he did say that he was in Voldemort's presence this past Sunday afternoon. I will have to see if his version is similar to yours.”

The Headmaster sat back, his hands steepled in front of him, obviously considering what Harry had told him. “I am wondering if the scar that Voldemort gave you somehow gives the two of you a connection, one that opens when he is extremely emotional. It would explain why you heard laughing or yelling in the past. That would also explain why you were called 'Lord' and why you were treated so deferentially.”

Brook gasped. “You mean I was inside Voldemort’s head?”

“Yes, I do think that that was what you experienced. This is all very interesting; I will have to talk to Severus to confirm that your memory of the events is the same as his. I also ask that if you have any other headaches like this, either with a vision or without, let me know right away.”

The Headmaster paused, tapping his fingers together. After a few moments, he restarted. “If Voldemort learns of this connection, he might use it to enter your mind. I think it would be a good idea for Remus start training you in a type of magic called Occlumency. It enables you to close your mind against invasions, which is something Voldemort is especially adept at. We don’t want him to know of your existence yet, because I would predict that he would try to get at you right away. Ordinarily I would have you work with Professor Snape, as he is a master at Occlumency, but I don’t want him to know your true identity yet, since he still has to work with Voldemort, and your true identity would be almost impossible for you to hide during training.”

Brook nodded in agreement. “I’ll let you know if I have any other episodes; I hope there won’t be any more like the last one. On a pain scale of one to ten, it was at least a fifteen.”

After a pause, Harry brought up another topic. "Professor," he began hesitantly. "At the end of this vision, I also saw the boy they had used for the ritual; it looked like he had been tortured. Then I, or I guess Voldemort, told Avery to take care of the imposter. I don't suppose that meant they would Obliviate him and return him to his home, did it? They were planning on killing him, weren't they?"

"Yes, unfortunately, that has been the fate of the other two boys they tried this with." After a moment of awkward silence, Dumbledore tried to change the subject. "Returning to the topic of the Soul Bond, have you two had any times when you could hear the other’s thoughts or feelings? That is supposed to be another part of the Soul Bond.”

Ginny and Harry looked at each other, but then Harry answered, “No, I don’t think so.”

Then, after a moment, Ginny added, “What about the night you were in the trophy room? I just had this feeling that you were upset. Maybe the Soul Bond is the explanation for that.”

“And you always seem to know when I have a nightmare and come down to the common room when I can’t sleep.”

“Try to pay more attention to your feelings of each other and let me know about that occurring as well.” The headmaster shifted his position and folded his hands on his desk. “Is there anything else?”

“No, I think that was enough, don’t you?” joked Harry.

“Yes, that certainly was enough," the Headmaster chuckled. "So, I will reiterate the importance of keeping your identity a secret. This information from your vision indicates why Voldemort is looking for you, and we want to make sure he can't find you." When the two students indicated they understood, he said, "I will talk to the two of you later, then.”

As they left his office, Harry was quiet and obviously deep in thought. Ginny pulled him into an alcove. "What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry didn't respond immediately, but she gave him some time. Eventually, he gazed at a spot over her shoulder and nearly whispered, "It's those three boys that look like me, all three kidnapped and murdered just because they have black hair and green eyes. It's all my fault, just like my parents, both sets, all of them dead because of me."

Ginny's heart broke, seeing the pain on Harry's face. She took his chin in her hand and looked directly into his eyes. "Harry, all those deaths are Tom Riddle's fault, not yours! I understand how you feel. I felt the same after the events in the Chamber, but you told me a few weeks ago that I shouldn't feel guilty about that, and you shouldn't feel guilty about this. Please, Harry, it's okay to be sad about their deaths, but guilt isn't going to help anything." She pulled him into a hug, trying to comfort him.

After a few moments in each other’s arms, Ginny felt Harry relax. "Thanks, Gin, I needed to hear that. You always seem to know exactly what I need."

"Maybe that's the sensing each other’s emotions the Headmaster was talking about. It's seems like I can tell exactly how you feel and know just what you need to hear."

"Regardless of what it is, thank you. I don't know what I would have done without you these last few months."

"You are welcome. Now, let's get back to the common room; we both have some homework to do."

**********

The next Tuesday, when Remus and Brook were done with their tutoring, they sat down with some pumpkin juice, recovering from their workout. “Well, Brook, or should I say Harry, we need to talk about a serious topic. I understand you know my fiancée and have had some inappropriate interactions with her.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about. Who's your fiancée?”

“Nymphadora Tonks, but you probably know her just as Tonks.”

“Oh, you’re engaged to Tonks? I had no idea.”

“Yes, after you met with Dumbledore last week, he and I talked and he revealed that Tonks had actually been the one to find you. She was so relieved to be able to talk about you with me, since I’ve been telling her about this American student I was tutoring and she couldn’t reveal that she knew who you were." He paused for a moment and narrowed his eyes at Harry. "She also told me all about your first meeting.”

Then, Harry realized what he meant by ‘inappropriate interactions’ and turned white. “I’m really sorry, Remus, really I am. It was all an accident, and I didn’t even know my hand was there, and I apologized multiple times for it, and . . . “

Remus chuckled. “Calm down, Harry. I am just teasing you. She explained it all to me.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief. Trying to change the subject, he asked, “Remus, can you tell me something about my parents? What were they like?”

“James was talented, and he knew it. When he was younger, he was a little arrogant, skating by on his natural magical power, and not trying very hard. Lily was Muggleborn, but was an amazing witch; she was the smartest person in our school, much like Hermione, and was always studying, working to be the best, but she had a temper that you couldn’t believe.”

“Tell me a story about them. I want to get to know them better.”

Remus considered for a few seconds. “How about how they finally became a couple?" When Harry nodded, he continued. "Your father was smitten with Lily from fourth year, maybe before then, and thought that by bragging and acting cool, he could win her heart. He asked her to every Hogsmeade weekend for three straight years, but she kept turning him down because she thought he was an arrogant toe rag. He even tried dating other girls to make her jealous, but it didn’t work. The last time he asked her during sixth year, she screamed at him, telling him she would never go out with him and told him to leave her alone.

“But something changed during the summer before seventh year. He grew up and matured a lot that summer and when he returned to school, he decided to try a different tack. He started working harder in lessons, stopped bragging, and he started living up to his potential. Dumbledore must have seen that potential, because he surprised everyone by naming him Head Boy. When Lily found out that he was Head Boy, she was livid, thinking that he would make a mockery of the position. However, James took the duties seriously, and with all the time they had to spend together, Lily started seeing him in a different light. On rounds they started talking more and sharing their thoughts and dreams. Sirius and I could see that things were changing, but James was sort of oblivious to it.

“It all came to a head the first Hogsmeade weekend. Lily had been expecting James to ask her again, like he had each of the last ten or twelve times, and this time she had planned on saying yes. But he didn’t ask her. He had decided to respect her wishes and leave her alone like she had asked him the previous spring. She kept waiting for him to ask her, turning down multiple other dates. As the day approached, she was getting more and more frustrated at him, and James noticed that she was quieter than usual on their rounds. He asked her if anything was wrong and she said no, so he let it drop.

“Finally the morning of the Hogsmeade day, the fireworks started. We were all sitting at the table in the Great Hall talking about our plans for the day. Lily was sitting a little way down from us, quietly eating her breakfast away from her friends, which was a little out of character. Then James asked, ‘So, Evans, who are you going to Hogsmeade with?’ She stood up, her face all red, and yelled at him, ‘No one, thanks to you, Potter!’ She turned and ran out of the room, obviously crying. James chased after her and caught up to her in one of the corridors. Sirius, Peter, and I followed and Sirius cast a spell that allowed us to see and hear them from around the corner. ‘Lily, what’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘Why are you crying?’ She responded, ‘You’re the reason I’m crying, you prat! Why didn’t you ask me to Hogsmeade? Don’t you like me anymore?’ James just stood there with his mouth gaping open and didn’t answer her immediately. ‘I guess that’s my answer then. Excuse me while I go back to my dorm to do my homework,’ she said and she started to leave. But James grabbed her arm, turned her around, and kissed her. At first she didn’t respond, but after a few seconds her arms wrapped around his neck and they were in full snog. After a bit, they stopped and Lily asked, ‘James, why didn’t you ask me to Hogsmeade? I’ve been falling for you this school year and I was waiting for you to ask me like you always do, and was just getting more and more frustrated when you didn’t. I thought you didn’t care for me anymore.’ Her face turned downward as she said the last. James took her chin in his hand and lifted her eyes to his. He replied, ‘Lily, you know I’ve cared for you for years. But over the summer I came to realize that if you didn’t feel the same for me, then I would have to accept just being friends. I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship by continually badgering you to go out with me. But if you want to take the next step and be more than just friends, you will make me the happiest wizard in the world.’ He then kissed her again. After a few more moments, he pulled back and said, ‘Miss Evans, would you do me the great honour of allowing me to escort you to Hogsmeade?’ She replied, ‘I would be pleased to accompany you, Mr Potter.’ And they walked off hand in hand. I wish I could say that they lived happily ever after, but while they lived, they were happy.” Remus wiped at his one eye, trying to hide the tears there.

“So, I know what my dad looked like because I found a picture of him in the trophy room, but what about my mom? What did she look like? People say I have her eyes.”

“Well, I told you that she had many boys asking her to Hogsmeade, and that was because she was gorgeous. She had wavy auburn hair; apparently, Potters have a thing about redheads going back generations, something you obviously inherited from your dad,” as he elbowed Harry gently in the side with a smirk. “And of course you know about her eyes. She also had a smile that . . . well, instead of me trying to describe her, let me show you the pictures I brought. I thought you might want to look at a few.”

“You have pictures? I’d love to see them.”

Remus fished about in the pocket of his robes. “Let’s see, this one was taken that first Hogsmeade visit; you can tell already that they were in love.” As he handed Harry the picture, Harry gasped and dropped it. “What’s wrong, Harry?”

“It’s the woman from my nightmares.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Well, I have two nightmares that alternate. One is seeing the car my adopted parents died in going up in flames and me being powerless to do anything. But the other one, I have never understood. I see a woman in front of me screaming, ‘No, not him!’ And then I see a green light and she falls to the ground. I then hear an incantation, which I have now learned is probably the Killing Curse, and see another green light before I wake up, terrified.” He put a hand to his mouth and said in a whisper, “The woman in the dream is my mom.”

“It sounds like your two nightmares are similar, Harry. The second one must be when Voldemort killed Lily and then tried to kill you.”

“Now that I know who she is, it all makes sense.” Harry fell silent for a moment. "Remus, can you tell me what happened that night? Professor Dumbledore has told me some, but I feel like he has not been telling me the whole story."

"Unfortunately, I don't know much more than I told you last time. I had been sent away on a mission at the time it happened. What I have been told is that Voldemort learned where your family was in hiding and attacked Halloween night. No one knows for sure what happened. Your father was found dead of the Killing Curse in the living room, and your mum was found in the rubble of your room. It looked like a bomb had gone off. She also was a victim of Avada Kedavra. And no sign was found of you or Voldemort, so it was assumed you were both dead. I'm sorry, but that's all I know. You might want to ask Hagrid if he knows any more; he was the first person in the house after you disappeared."

Harry's shoulders sagged a little. "That's okay. I just wish I knew more about what happened that night, but it sounds like no one really knows anything."

Remus put his arm around Harry's shoulders. "If there is anything I can tell you about your parents, I will. But maybe we should wait until next time."

At that moment, they heard a knock on the door. “Looks like our time is up. Harry, why don’t you keep this photo, just don’t let anyone else see it.”

“Thanks, Remus.” Harry put it in his pocket, put his ring back on and opened the door to see Ginny waiting for him. His spirits instantly lifted. “Hi, Beautiful!” and he pulled her into a hug and kissed her.

“Hello to you, too. What’s this greeting all about?”

“I just had this overwhelming need of one of your hugs, and here you are!"

"I guess our connection is strengthening, because I felt like you needed a lift."

As they walked to dinner, he found himself engrossed by Ginny's hair. She looked at him questioningly. "What is it? Is there something in my hair?"

Brook chuckled. "No, I was just admiring it, and comparing it to the picture of my mum that Remus gave me. I just learned that apparently my attraction to you is genetic. Potters have a thing for redheads.”

“Oh, you do, do you? Well, I’m glad that I meet your criteria,” she teased. “So you just love me for my hair?”

“You could be bald and I’d still love you.” He kissed her again and grabbed her hand, heading down to the Great Hall.

**********

The weeks started to pass quickly toward Christmas break, so the professors were really loading on the assignments, especially the seventh years who were going to be taking NEWTs. Harry and Ginny still found time to go to the Room of Requirement occasionally. Ginny really liked being with Harry, and not Harry disguised as Brook, so they went there for studying, talking, and an occasional snog.

Ginny was being very careful to call Harry Brook when they were around other people, but she did almost slip up once. They were eating dinner and she needed the mashed potatoes passed, saying, “Ha . . . Brook, can you pass the potatoes, please?” She hoped that no one had picked up on her mistake, but Hermione noticed.

“What did you call him?” asked Hermione?

Ginny’s face turned bright red and she stammered, but Brook covered, saying, “Oh, she was calling me Holbrook, which is my full first name. I’ve always hated it, but it was a family name, and fortunately my parents shortened it to Brook.”

Ron laughed, spewing pumpkin juice across the table on Neville. “Holbrook, ha ha! That’s hilarious.”

Hermione slapped him on the arm, “Ronald, be nice; after all your middle name is Bilius.”

Ron quickly stopped laughing, turning beet red.

After they were done with their meal, Ginny and Brook walked out together. Ginny whispered, “Nice cover. But ‘Holbrook’? Where did you come up with that one?”

Brook answered sheepishly, “Holbrook is actually my real name. See, when my parents found me, I was wrapped in a blanket with the monogram HJP, for Harry James Potter. Since their last name was Pelton, they decided to name me to match the initials. Thus, Holbrook Jeffrey Pelton.”

“Well, I guess it isn’t that bad. After all, my first name is Ginevra, a variation of Guinevere, King Arthur’s wife.”

“Ginevra,” he said like he was trying it out as he said it. “It suits you. It’s unique but beautiful and sophisticated like you are. Do you mind if I call you ‘Ginevra’ when we’re alone, like you call me ‘Harry’?”

Ginny looked down at her feet. “I’ve never really liked that name.”

“Why not? Does your mom use it when you are in trouble?” he said, with a grin.

“Yes, she does, but actually she generally uses all three names then, Ginevra Molly Weasley, all run together without a pause between them. But that’s not the reason.”

“Why don’t you like it?”

“It was the name Tom used when he wrote to me in the diary,” she said quietly.

“Oh.” Brook slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I’d still like to call you that in private, if it’s okay. Maybe I can help you to like your name again.”

“I’d like that. Thanks, Harry,” she said in a whisper as she grinned up at him.

“You’re welcome, Ginevra,” he whispered back in her ear before giving a peck on the cheek.

Back to index


Chapter 20: Meet the Weasleys

Author's Notes: Thank you again to my beta Arnel who continually pushes me to be a better writer.


Meet the Weasleys

November 30, 1997

Dear Aaron,

Congratulations on an undefeated football season and state championship! I knew you could do it! Things are going well here. I am feeling very comfortable in my classes now and making some wonderful friends.

And then there is Ginny. Words cannot express adequately how I feel about her. We’ve grown so close in such a short time. I feel like there is nothing I can’t tell her and there are days when we just spend hours talking about our lives, our dreams, everything important to us. Sometimes it feels like I’ve known her all my life instead of just a few months. I know I sound like a character from a chick flick, but it’s the way I feel. It’s already getting pretty serious. She has invited me to spend Christmas with her parents and you’ll never guess what she did for me for Thanksgiving!

Brook paused as he wrote and reminisced about that day.

At breakfast, Brook received a letter via owl, but he could tell it was a Muggle letter from the address on it. This day, when Brook read the return address, it caused his face to drop visibly.

“What’s wrong, Brook? Who’s the letter from?” asked Ginny, putting her hand on his forearm and peeking over his shoulder.

Brook sighed. “It’s from the ski resort in Switzerland that my parents and I were going to stay at over Christmas break. It’s confirming our reservation.” He paused, remembering those plans. “I was so looking forward to that trip. It was going to be our first extended time together after several months apart.”

“Are you still going to go?” asked Hermione. “I’ve spent several holidays skiing on the Continent with my family. We always had a great time.”

“No, I don’t think so. It wouldn’t be the same. I guess I’ll just stay here at Hogwarts. Dumbledore said that a number of students spend the break here.” While he was trying to put on a brave face, it was obvious to Ginny, Ron, and Hermione that the idea depressed him.

Ginny sat up with a determined look on her face. “There is no way you are going to spend your first Christmas without your parents here in this old castle! You are coming to the Burrow and spending it with us. Mum would love to have you, wouldn’t she Ron?” she said as she turned to her brother.

“She would, mate,” agreed Ron. “Our brothers would sometimes bring someone home for Christmas when we were younger. She always says, ‘The more the merrier.’”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family,” said Brook quietly.

“You wouldn’t be intruding. Hermione will be there for some of the break, too. Mum would love someone else to mother. I will have to warn you, you are probably going to get spoiled by her, as soon as she hears about your story,” said Ginny.

“Yeah, you better be prepared for some bone crushing hugs. She is going to love having another son around,” added Ron.

“Well, if your parents say it is okay, I’ll come.” His gaze dropped down to his plate as he added, barely above a whisper. “A few bone crushing hugs from a mom sound pretty good about now.”

“Why do you say that? Is something else wrong?” asked Ginny, putting her hand on his arm.

Brook took a deep breath. “Today is the American holiday of Thanksgiving. It’s a traditional time for families to gather, and I guess I am missing my parents. I read somewhere that holidays are usually pretty rough the first time after losing someone.”

“How did you celebrate?” asked Ginny.

“Most families have a huge gathering with all of their relatives, but since we didn’t have much family, my mom would always invite other friends that couldn’t celebrate with their families, either because they didn’t have large families or because they were too far from home. My mom would get up early in the morning and start cooking and baking up a storm. When I came down from my bedroom, the aroma was heavenly. People would start to arrive mid-morning and we would have a pick-up football game. American football, not what Brits call football, that we call soccer.” Seeing blank faces, other than Hermione, he added, “You know the football that Dean goes on and on about, that’s a different game. Ours is more like rugby.” Seeing more confused stares, Brook shrugged and said, “It doesn’t matter. We played a game for fun and then we would come in for lunch, which was just some light stuff. The men, and some of the women, would then sit down in our basement where we would watch some professional football games on TV, while the rest of the women would finish making Thanksgiving dinner.

“We would eat dinner around 5:00 or 5:30, during half time of the second football game on TV, and it was a feast fit to rival the ones here at Hogwarts. In addition to a huge turkey, we would generally have a ham, and mashed potatoes, gravy, dressing, both regular and oyster, sweet potato casserole, rolls, and whatever other side dishes people brought. During the meal, we would all take a turn telling what we were thankful for that year, which is the original purpose of the holiday, giving thanks.

“After stuffing ourselves beyond full, the men would clean up and do the dishes and then we would all sit down again in front of the TV, not really watching the game since it generally wasn’t very good, just talking and enjoying each other’s company. We would allow the dinner to digest a little before having pies: cherry pie, apple pie, pecan pie, mincemeat pie, and, of course, pumpkin pie. We might not need to eat again for a week, but it was just a great time to spend together with friends.” He let his head fall forward again as his shoulders sagged. “It just feels weird not to be celebrating with my parents today,” he finished with his eyes a little moist.

Brook didn’t notice but Ginny and Hermione shared some looks and nods behind his back. “I need to get to class early this morning; I need to ask Professor McGonagall a question before class starts,” said Ginny as she rose from the table, giving Brook a quick peck on the cheek.

Hermione said, “I’ll walk with you,” and stood up also.

After classes that day, Brook was sitting alone in the common room when Ginny came up behind him, put her hands over his eyes, and said, “Guess who.”

“Let’s see, who do I know with such a sexy voice and such soft kissable hands? Lavender? Luna? Hermione?” he teased.

Ginny took her hands away and cuffed him lightly on the back of the head and said, “You better not find their voices sexy or their hands ‘kissable,’ you prat!”

“You know I don’t; my lips are only for your hands, and your lips, and your neck, and your . . .” as he kissed each part of her body.

“You better stop there, Mr Pelton. I have a surprise for you and we have somewhere to go. Here, put this blindfold on.”

“What do you have planned, Miss Weasley?” Brook asked, his right eyebrow raising.

“You’ll just have to have some patience.” He put on the blindfold and she linked her arm in his and led him through the portrait hole. She led him down corridor after corridor and up and down stairs until he was thoroughly lost. “Any idea where you are, Mr Pelton?”

“I don’t have a clue.”

“Good. Now we are going to go through this door and then you can take your blindfold off.”

When he took off the blindfold, he was in a room right out of a Norman Rockwell painting. There was a huge table, filled with a Thanksgiving feast just as he had described that morning. Sitting around the table were Ron, Hermione, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Colin, Luna, Lavender, Parvati and Padma, Lydia, Remus, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Dumbledore. At each end of the table was an empty chair with a picture, one of his father, and one of his mother that Ginny had enlarged from his album.

“We know that it isn’t the same as if you would have at home with your parents, but we thought a feast with your new friends would help you get through the day,” said Ginny, kissing him on the cheek, a huge smile on her face.

Brook had tears running down his cheeks and he hugged Ginny tightly. “You did all this for me?”

“Hermione and Professor Dumbledore helped. When we saw how much you were missing it this morning, we felt we wanted to do something.”

Ginny led him over to the table and they sat down in two empty chairs, and everyone began passing the food around the table. Brook leaned over to his girlfriend. “This food is amazing, just like Mom would make! How did you do this?”

“That was Professor Dumbledore’s part. He Floo called the headmaster at the Salem Institute and she sent some of her house-elves over. They made the meal for us, since their students are away on holiday. Hermione had a little bit of a problem with that, but we convinced her that it was the only way it would work.”

Ron spoke up, with food in his mouth, “Brook, I like this holiday of Thanksgiving! We should do this every year!” This caused everyone to laugh, except for Hermione who slapped him on the arm for talking with his mouth full.

After everyone was fully stuffed, even Ron to everyone’s amazement, Brook announced, “Thank you so much to everyone who came and helped me celebrate tonight. One tradition that we always had during Thanksgiving dinner was for each person to share what they were thankful for. I would like to start. First, I am thankful that I had such wonderful parents who raised me for sixteen years. I miss them every day and this feast has brought back some wonderful memories. Second, I am thankful for all of you, my new friends who are thoughtful enough to create this Thanksgiving dinner for me.”

Then around the room, the others shared what they were thankful for. During the sharing, Brook leaned over to Ginny and whispered, “Third, I am thankful for you and all you do for me. I may even show you how thankful after everyone else has left.” After everyone was done sharing, all agreed that this was a tradition that should be continued in future years.

**********

After the summary of the events of Thanksgiving, Brook continued the letter.

This just gives you a glimpse of the type of girl she is and how sweet and caring she is. On top of that, she is absolutely gorgeous. And yes (I know your next question) the snogging is amazing!

I know you’ll give me a hard time about this, but I am in love with her. I’ve never felt even close to this strongly about another girl. I’m even starting to think about our future together; marriage, kids, forever. I realize it’s early in the relationship to be thinking about those things, but when you’ve found the One, the One you are destined to be with, that’s what happens. But I guess you wouldn’t know about that, would you?

That’s what is happening on this side of the pond. Write back soon; it’s always nice to get mail from back home.

Brook

**********

The day after Thanksgiving, Ginny had written to her mother.

Dear Mum,

Hope you and Daddy are well. I am sorry I haven’t written much this term, but it has been very busy. Between homework, Quidditch and the DA, there hasn’t been a lot of free time. But there has been a little and that is what I want to talk to you about.

I’m sure you remember that in my last letter I told you that Dean and I broke up and now I’m dating Brook, that American boy we met on the platform. We’ve been going out for about six weeks now, and he is really special and I would like you and Daddy to get to know him better. I was hoping that he could come home with Ron and me at Christmas. You see, he is an orphan; his parents died this past summer and he has nowhere to go for the holidays. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have to spend your first Christmas without your parents alone at Hogwarts. He can stay in Ron’s room; they are best mates as well (but I’m guessing you don’t know that since Ron never writes). As I wrote, Brook’s the new Seeker on the Gryffindor team, so Ron is looking forward to him playing in the annual Weasley Quidditch matches.

It would mean so much to him, and to me, to be able to spend Christmas with a family that can love on him and help him through his grief. Let me know.

Love,

Ginny

As she finished reading her daughter’s letter, Molly Weasley commented to her husband, Arthur, “Wow, this must be serious. Ginny has never brought a boy home before to meet us. She never even asked us to meet that Dean Thomas whom she dated for over a year. She may say that she wants him not to be alone this Christmas, but I think that she must really like this boy.” She responded the same day to Ginny that, of course, Brook was welcome to come for Christmas and they would do their best to make it a happy holiday for him.

**********

One night about ten days after the Thanksgiving celebration, Brook was lying awake, staring at the underside of his canopy, unable to sleep because of exams coming up and all the information running through his brain. He heard the soft snores of his roommates and assumed everyone was asleep until he heard Ron whispering.

“Brook, you awake?”

“Yeah, Ron, what’s up?”

There was a pause. “This is a little awkward, but, well, here goes nothing.” Another pause. “What are you intentions toward my sister?”

Confused by the seemingly random question, Brook replied, “What do you mean?”

After another pause, Ron answered, “Brook, what do you feel for her? You’re not just playing with her, are you? She’s not just someone you are dating for fun, is she?”

Brook considered how to answer this. “No, I’m not playing with her. Ron, I’ve never felt like this before. It’s like I’ve had this hole, this emptiness in my life, that I didn’t even know I had, but now that she’s filled it, I don’t know how I lived without her. That time when she was angry with me was the first time I noticed it, because it had been filled, but then it wasn’t any longer.”

“I am glad to hear that, Brook, because I’ve never seen Ginny like this before. She’s so happy; it’s like she’s just exuding joy." There was a pause. "Well, that’s not true. She used to be like this before her first year at Hogwarts. Has she told you about what happened?”

“Yeah, she did. I also know that she is still haunted by those events.”

“You’re part right, there. She was still haunted until you two started going out. Yes, she would be happy and sad, just like everyone, but when she was happy, it was as if she was still holding something back, or like she was just acting and it wasn’t real. Now, she looks like the old Ginny, or the young Ginny … oh, whatever. You get what I’m saying? She’s different with you. She never acted like this with her other boyfriends, not even at the beginning of the relationships when couples are normally so lovey-dovey at the newness of the relationship. It’s like she’s finally moved beyond all that happened to her first year.” After a few seconds of silence, he added, “Thanks, Brook.” Brook noticed a crack in Ron’s voice. “It’s good to have my sister back.”

Brook didn’t know how to respond, but before he could Ron continued, “And you remember what I said when you first started going out with her, about not hurting her? Well, that goes even more now that I know how much you mean to her.”

“I have no intention of ever hurting her, Ron. I think seeing her hurt would break my heart, too. I plan on doing everything in my power to keep her as happy as I can as long as she will let me.”

“Good. Sounds like we’re on the same page. Night, Brook.”

“Night, Ron.” Brook heard a sniff from the direction of Ron’s bed before he rolled over and fell asleep.

**********

A few days later, Brook, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stepped off the Hogwarts Express together, piling their trunks on to trolleys. “I’ll be back in a minute,” Ron said to Ginny and Brook. “I’m going to help Hermione find her parents while you look for whoever is picking us up.” The couple pushed Hermione’s trolley through the barrier while Ginny searched the crowd for a redhead. She finally spotted Bill and sprinted for him, jumping into his arms.

“Hey, Ginger Snap, how are you?” asked Bill as he held her and swung her around.

Brook came up a few seconds later, delayed by pushing the trolley with the three trunks through the crowd. When Bill had put Ginny down on the ground, Ginny turned and said, “Bill, I would like you to meet Brook Pelton. Brook, this is my eldest brother Bill.”

“So, this is the famous Brook everyone has been talking about for the last few weeks.”

Brook blushed and Ginny, with narrowed eyes, said, “What do you mean by that, Bill?”

“Bringing a boy home to meet the parents is a big deal. We all want to meet this boy who has swept you off your feet, and make sure he’s good enough for our favourite little sister.”

Ginny stood up as tall as she could and said through tight lips, “I’m your only sister, Bill, and you better be nice to Brook. I don’t want all of you to scare him off. I’m warning you, and you can let the rest of my brothers know: be nice to him or else!” as she pulled out her wand, pointing it at Bill.

Bill raised his hands in surrender. “Easy, Ginny. I’m just teasing you. I’m sure we’ll all like Brook.”

Brook had been a little nervous about meeting Ginny’s parents, but hadn’t really thought about five more brothers to impress as well. He figured that if he could get Ron’s approval, the other brothers wouldn’t be hard, but overhearing Bill’s comments made him think that maybe he was wrong.

Ron stepped up at that moment, greeting Bill with a hug and thump on the back. “Alright, there, Ron?” Bill asked. “Not missing Hermione already, are you?” with a teasing grin on his face.

Ron rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Bill. Since her parents had their house connected to the Floo network, I can call her every day. We’re planning on going Christmas shopping at Diagon Alley in a few days, and she’ll be coming over Boxing Day to spend the rest of the holiday with us, so I think we’ll be able to survive.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to ruin our Christmas with you constantly moping about the house. Let’s get through the barrier and on the road.”

Bill helped Ron and Brook get the trunks into the boot of the Ford Anglia that their father had magically enhanced. Ron nudged Brook and said, “Wait until you see what Dad has done to this car. It can fly and turn invisible.”

Bill, overhearing Ron’s comment, said, “Dad made me promise to just drive it today, Ron. There‘s no reason to risk being seen by Muggles just to show off a little,” said Bill.

It was an uneventful drive home, with Ron in front with Bill and Ginny and Brook in the back. Ginny dozed off for a while, leaning on Brook’s shoulder, which Bill noticed through the rear view mirror. When they arrived, Brook said, “Wake up, Ginny. We’re here.”

After getting out of the car and getting the trunks out, Brook looked up at the house he would call home for the next few weeks. He struggled to not gape in amazement at the building. It was four stories high, and without magic, there is no way it would stand on its own. Parts of stories would hang over the edge of the lower floor. There were at least four chimneys in the roof, all puffing out white smoke. Even though it was unlike any house he had ever seen, it still was familiar from his dreams of Ginny as a young girl. He remembered that the house in his dreams had always seemed so impossible, and it leant a sense of surrealism to the dreams. He remembered how he remembered this house from his dreams the first time he saw some of Salvador Dali’s paintings. Now, he could see that his dreams were accurate in this as well. As they walked up to the door, it slammed open and out ran Mrs Weasley, who engulfed Ginny and then Ron in hugs. She then came over to Brook and hugged him as well, saying, “It’s good to see you again, Brook. Welcome to the Burrow.”

“Thanks, Mrs Weasley. I really appreciate you letting me visit over our break.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, dear. We are more than happy to have you, even if you weren’t the first boy that Ginny has brought home.”

Brook swallowed again as he walked toward the house. He looked at Ginny and whispered, “You didn’t tell me this was going to be such a big deal.”

“I didn’t know that it was going to be. It’s not like the boys haven’t brought home girls before.”

“Well, I’m willing to put up with anything for you,” Brook said as he grabbed her hand and walked through the door with her.

He and Ginny were separated almost as soon as they entered the door. Brook was a little overwhelmed with the chaos in the kitchen. The room was filled with redheads hugging and shaking hands, asking how school or work was. Brook just sort of stood back out of the way for a little bit, before the family descended on him. The twins were the first to shake his hand, with one of them saying, “You didn’t tell us you were a couple when we met you in Hogsmeade. Why were you keeping it a secret?”

“We weren’t dating when we saw you,” he tried to interject, but the twins continued as if they didn’t hear him.

"What exactly are your intentions toward our little Gin-Gin?” asked the other.

“Not corrupting her, are you?”

The one on the right turned to his brother and said, "If I know our sister, she might be the one doing the corrupting."

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

“Certainly not. You do know that if you try anything or hurt her, we will kill you, don’t you?”

“But not before we submit you to some of our best products,” the one on the left said with an evil grin on his face.

Brook felt like he was at a Ping-Pong match trying to keep up with the rapid-fire comments coming from the twins. One of them slapped him on the back, whispering in his ear, “Be afraid, be very afraid,” as they walked away.

He next met Charlie, who was home from the dragon preserve in Romania. “Hear you’re a Seeker,” he said to Brook. “Ron says you’re even better than I was. Maybe we’ll have to compete in a match some time while you are here.”

“Sounds like fun. Ron told me that we would probably be able to get some flying in over the break,” said Brook, happy to talk about Quidditch instead of being grilled about his relationship with Ginny.

Percy came over next. He seemed a little stuffy to Brook, asking, “It is nice to see Ginevra starting to mature. What exactly do you want to be when you finish at Hogwarts? The Ministry is always a good option. Any departments you might be interested in?”

“I’m not sure; I’m still pretty new to the Wizarding world. I only learned that I was magical this past summer. I am president of an aviation company that my father left me in charge of back home, so maybe I’ll go back to that.”

“’Aviation’, you say. What is ‘aviation’?”

“Well, we do maintenance on airplanes as well as help with shipping of items via air.”

“Airplanes! I can’t believe anyone would get in one of those things. I have a hard time believing they can fly.”

“Well, I’m sure there are a lot of Muggles who would say the same thing about broomsticks.”

That caused Percy to think a moment. “You have a point there. Well, nice meeting you.” And he was off to another conversation.

Last was Ginny’s father. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr Weasley. I’ve heard so much about you. Ron told me about the modifications to the Anglia. I’d love to see them sometime. I’m a little bit of a car buff. I helped my dad restore another Ford, an American sports car called a Mustang.”

Mr Weasley’s eyes lit up. “So, you like cars." He leaned closer and whispered, "I will show you some of those features on the Anglia later, but don’t talk about it too loudly. Molly doesn’t like that I made those adjustments." At a more normal volume he continued. "I heard you telling Percy that you work with aeroplanes. I’d love to talk to you about those some time.”

“I’d like that,” Brook smiled in reply. Ginny had warned him that her father was fascinated with Muggles and would probably talk his ear off with questions.

Ginny finally was able to get away from her brothers’ hugs and came over to Brook and squeezed his hand. “Meeting everyone go alright?” she whispered in his ear.

“I think so. Most of the family greeted me warmly, though the twins gave me a hard time and Percy scoffed at my dad’s business.”

“That’s Percy and the twins; I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“Ginny, why don’t you show Brook Ron’s room and help him get settled in,” said Mrs Weasley from across the room.

Ginny grabbed Brook’s hand again and she led him up the stairs towards Ron’s room, Brook levitating two trunks behind them. As they reached the first floor landing, she pointed out the loo and opened the door to her bedroom. “Thought you should know where to find me, but don’t let anyone else find you in there or there might not be much of you left,” she teased.

Another sense of déjà vu came over him as he peeked in. “Actually, I knew exactly where your room was. Looks just like I remember it from my dreams,” said Brook.

“Don’t let anyone else hear you say that; I am sure they don’t want to know that my bedroom has been in your dreams, even if it was innocent at the time.”

They continued to climb the stairs until they reached Ron’s room. The room was decorated in a bright orange and had Chudley Cannons posters all over it. “I hope all this hideous orange won’t keep you up at night,” she chuckled.

Brook put his trunk down at the foot of the camp bed that Ginny indicated would be his and Ginny closed the door. “Take off your ring so I can see the real you, Harry,” she said as she put her arms around his neck. “It seems like ages since I’ve seen you.”

Harry pointed his wand at the door, placing a locking charm on it, while Ginny pulled the blinds on the window. Harry then took off his ring, revealing his true appearance, and Ginny kissed him so hard that they fell back on his bed. After a few minutes of rather passionate snogging, Harry pulled back, regained his breath, and said, “We’d better go back downstairs; I don’t want to get on your parents’ bad side the first day I’m here for snogging you in a bedroom.”

They stood up, straightened their clothes, smoothed out the bedclothes, and Harry put his ring back on before they returned to the rest of the family. As they left, they didn’t notice the rat in a cage on a dresser dancing around excitedly.

Back to index


Chapter 21: Christmas at the Burrow

Author's Notes: Merry Christmas everyone! I really wanted to get this chapter up in time for the holiday. I hope you enjoy Brook's first Christmas without his parents.

Thanks again to my beta Arnel. Among other things, she really helped to impede my tendency to dither on in long monologues.


Christmas at the Burrow

When Ginny and Brook arrived downstairs it was almost time for dinner. Ginny helped her mom in the kitchen while Brook helped Ron set the table. In addition to the Weasleys and Brook, Bill’s wife, Fleur, and Percy’s fiancé, Audrey were also there. Brook was astounded as the food began to come in from the kitchen for the table, unsure if it would hold all of it without breaking. He thought there had been a lot of food at the Thanksgiving dinner they had held for him, but this was an even bigger feast.

Dinner was almost as chaotic as their homecoming, with food being passed quickly around the table and the conversations flying about almost as fast. Topics that Brook picked up on included goings on at the Ministry, Hogwarts, Professor Snape’s use (or non-use) of shampoo, Quidditch, Charlie’s latest dragon-induced injuries, wedding plans for Percy and Audrey, and teasing about the love lives of the rest of the Weasleys. While Brook was a stranger to almost everyone at the table, he felt instantly accepted, as if he were part of the family. After everyone had eaten entirely too much food, often with encouragement from Mrs Weasley, she brought out a treacle tart, which Brook decided was the very best dessert he had ever had.

After dinner, most of the family squeezed into the small sitting room, with the adults choosing the sofas and chairs, while Ginny, Brook, and Ron found places on the floor. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace, the Wizarding wireless was on playing a Celestina Warbeck performance (Molly’s favourite), and the conversations continued to flow. Brook again felt at home, as if this was where he belonged, snuggling with Ginny and surrounded by the love of the Weasley family.

Several hours later, Bill, Fleur, Percy, and Audrey left and the rest of the family climbed the stairs for bed. Brook gave Ginny a small kiss good night outside her door as he was being closely followed by Molly and Arthur. As he settled under the blankets that night, a feeling of contentment and peace covered him as he fell into a calm sleep, uninterrupted by nightmares.

**********

One story below, Arthur and Molly were lying in bed talking about the day. “I told you there was more to it than just helping a boy who had lost his parents at Christmas. Did you see her today?” Molly asked.

“You’re right; she is different. She’s like she was before she went to Hogwarts. I guess I’ve become so used to the way she has acted since the Chamber that I’d almost forgotten how she used to be. I think she’s truly happy for the first time in years.”

“And have you noticed the way they look at each other? Arthur, I think our baby has fallen in love.”

“Yes, dear. Our little girl is growing up.”

**********

The next morning, Ginny and Brook were enjoying some scones for breakfast when Ron came down, asking, “Mum, have you seen Scabbers? He was in his cage last night, but he’s not there now.”

Ginny explained in a whisper to Brook that Scabbers was Ron’s pet rat. He used to take him to school, but when he received his own owl for being named prefect, he had left the rat at home since then.

Mrs Weasley continued puttering in the kitchen as she answered. “No, I haven’t seen him, Ron, but he has done that periodically over the last few years. He will disappear for a day or two, and then he comes back. I don’t know how he gets in and out of his cage, or where he goes, but he always comes back. Don’t worry; he’ll turn up.”

The twins came down together and said the weather was unusually warm and that it was a beautiful day for flying and suggested a pick-up game of Quidditch. Ron went up and roused Charlie and teams were picked. The twins needed to be split up because “they shared one brain” as Charlie teased, so Fred was teamed with Brook and Ginny, while George played with Ron and Charlie. Brook had not brought his 2C, so he used one of the Weasley family brooms. The twins started out as Keepers, with everyone else playing Chaser, but roles were switched frequently. After a while it was determined that maybe Brook and Ginny should have been split up also as they seemed to know where the other was without seeing. After a few hours of play, everyone lost track of the score as they were just having too much fun and it didn’t matter who won or lost. Mrs Weasley called them in for lunch and, while they were eating, Charlie said, “You fly pretty well, Brook, but I want to see your Seeker skills, since everyone has been raving about you. How about a one-on-one pursuit of the Snitch after lunch?”

Brook was game and so after lunch they all went out to watch the competition. George released the Snitch and then the two Seekers kicked off. They both circled the pitch, searching for the Snitch. Brook tried a Wronski Feint once, causing Molly to cover her eyes, but Charlie, while fooled initially, was able to pull out of his dive before hitting the ground. A few minutes later, Brook spotted the Snitch, but Charlie was between him and the ball. He tried a nonchalant move in its direction, but Charlie then saw the Snitch and took off after it. Brook raced after him, slipping right behind him, making Charlie have to fight the wind. At the last moment, Brook ducked underneath Charlie, put his body flat against the broom to obtain maximal speed, and shot right past him, grabbing the Snitch right before Charlie could put his fingers on it. As he lifted the Snitch over his head in victory, a sudden stab of pain arose in his scar, which rapidly escalated. Doubled over in pain on the broom, he was barely able to maintain enough control to land with a tumble. He tried to get up on all fours, but promptly vomited and decided that lying down was better. As he lay on the ground on his side, Ginny ran up to him. “Brook, are you okay? Are you having another of your headaches?”

“Yeah,” he said through gritted teeth. Ginny rubbed his forehead where his scar would be in his real appearance and ran her fingers through his hair; the pain slowly ebbed. He looked up at her, smiled, and said, “I’m willing to let you keep doing that as long as you want.” She slapped him gently on the arm and explained to her parents and family about his migraine headaches and that Remus was teaching him some relaxation techniques to help with them.

After several minutes, Charlie helped him to his feet and assisted him back to the house. On their way, he patted Brook on the back, saying, “That was some amazing flying out there. I can see why Ron has been bragging about this being Gryffindor’s year. With what you can do on one of our brooms, I can just imagine what you are like on a Firebolt.”

Ginny brought Brook into the sitting room and let him rest his head in her lap while lying on the sofa. The headaches always took a lot of out of him, so he dozed for a while. When he woke up, he saw that they were alone. “You’re awake,” Ginny whispered. “Did you see anything this time?”

“I only could tell that Voldemort has extremely happy and was laughing. I was trying to push him out, but I couldn’t. But as soon as you touched my scar, I felt better. I was able to concentrate better and build that wall like Remus taught me. I couldn’t see anything else after that.”

“I guess that’s the trade-off of using Occlumency; you won’t be able to tell what his plans are.”

“We’d better Floo call Dumbledore to let him know what happened, even if I don’t have much information.”

***********

“No, sir, I didn’t see anything this time; all I could tell was that he was happy about something. Have you heard anything from Professor Snape about what the Voldemort is planning?” Brook asked the Headmaster through the Floo.

“No, things have been very quiet recently. Unfortunately, Professor Snape was sent by Voldemort to the library at Durmstrang, another Wizarding school that is known for its collection on the Dark Arts to see if there is anything he can learn to alter the potion he has been working on. So, if Voldemort is plotting, we will be unaware of it. Hopefully this will prove to be nothing of consequence.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Thank you for telling me about this headache, Brook. Please keep me informed if you have any others.”

“I will, Professor. Have a Merry Christmas.”

“Good tidings to you as well, Mr Pelton.”

After his nap and telling Dumbledore about his headache, Brook felt much better, and Mrs Weasley announced it was time for the family to decorate the house for Christmas. As the male Weasleys went out to find a tree, Brook decided to join them at Ron’s invitation, but Ginny grabbed Brook’s arm and said, “No, please stay with me. You can help me make paper chains. It’s my traditional job. With your help, I can make loads more than last year!” Ginny explained that the tradition had started when Ginny was young and initially she just decorated the tree. But as she grew and became better at it, eventually she began to make too many chains for just the tree. Now, she had an annual challenge to create more chains than the year before and find creative ways to decorate the sitting room with them.

Brook wasn’t able to keep up with Ginny’s output (her years of experience meant she was faster than he was), but before they knew it they had piles and piles of paper chains with red, green, white, gold, and silver links. When the sitting room was completely covered in what looked like a paper chain explosion, there were still lots of chains available. So, they strung the chains up the bannisters on the stairs, around the top of each door jamb (other than the twins’, which they didn’t want to chance going in without permission), and on any other likely surface.

Just as they finished with the last of the chains, a tree that seemed much too large to come in the front door was brought in from outside and placed in the corner of the sitting room, where it dwarfed the room. Fred and George enchanted fairy lights throughout the tree and then everyone took turns putting on ornaments, either by hand, in Ginny’s case, or by magic, in everyone else’s case. Brook just sat on the sofa watching, other than assisting Ginny in draping the tree in their paper chain, as it seemed like each family member had specific ornaments that they always placed on the tree. Brook just enjoyed watching the obvious joy on Ginny’s face as the tree was trimmed. Fred and George then finished by adding what Brook thought was the ugliest angel he had ever seen on the very top of the tree.

After all the ornaments were hung, Mr Weasley sat down in his chair and said, “What do you think of our tree, Brook? Do you decorate a tree in America?”

“Surprisingly, our Christmas tree is actually pretty similar. Our lights are powered by electricity instead of fairies, and a lot of people choose to have blinking lights, so the effect is pretty much the same. We have special ornaments that we put on the tree, too, that remind us of events of our lives, or ones that I made when I was younger; most of those are pretty ugly, but my parents loved them.”

“Oh, where is my brain? Wait just a minute,” cried Mrs Weasley as she jumped up and went into the other room. She came back in a moment with a box about the size of a carry-on suitcase. “The Headmaster gave this to me for you Brook when we decorated the tree.”

Brook was puzzled as he opened the box. He pulled out the note on top and read it, bringing tears to his eyes.

Dear Brook,

I hope you are having a Merry Christmas. I wish you could be spending it with us, but Aaron told me that you are spending it with your girlfriend’s family (congratulations by the way! Sounds like you are pretty smitten) and I hope that you will be surrounded by love and comfort in this time when it will be natural for you to mourn your parents. The first holidays are usually a very difficult time for people who have lost loved ones. While it is normal to miss your parents, don’t dwell on what you lost; instead, remember the wonderful times you had as a family. Reminisce with Ginny about your fondest memories of Christmas. Yes, it will hurt, but it will also be cleansing.

To help you in this process, I hope you will enjoy your presents from our family. Don’t wait until Christmas morning to open them as I want you to appreciate them through the whole Christmas season. I think I found the most important ones.

Please remember that your parents are proud of the young man you have become, as am I. Treasure your memories and use them to heal.

Missing you,

Gina Roberts

PS Send us some pictures! We can’t wait to see this girl that has you so captivated.

Ginny put her hand on his forearm and asked, “What is it, Brook?”

Brook blinked back the unshed tears and sniffed. Unable to speak, he handed her the letter. After reading it, she explained to her family what it said and encouraged Brook to start opening the packages. Under some tissue paper, he found several smaller boxes, each individually wrapped as presents. He opened the first box and pulled out a small airplane on a string. His tears started to flow and he gulped before he said, “My friend’s mom sent me some of the ornaments that we put on our tree every year. Is it okay if I hang these on your tree, Mr and Mrs Weasley?”

“We would be honoured to have them on our tree,” replied Molly, her eyes moist as well. “Can you tell us about each of them?”

Brook told the story and significance of each ornament as he hung them. In addition to the plane, there was a baseball in a mitt, a powder blue Mustang convertible, a plate with chocolate chip cookies and milk, a baby wrapped up in a blanket with the caption “First Christmas, 1981,” a nativity scene, and several of those “ugly” homemade ornaments from his preschool and elementary years. The last one was one that the Roberts had had made especially for Brook; a small picture frame with the picture of Brook and his parents taken for USA Today. As he realized what it was, he thought, Mrs Roberts has no idea the dual significance of this ornament. If it weren’t for this picture, I might never have learned of my Wizarding heritage, and, more importantly, never have met Ginny. Yes, tears had fallen, which might have been embarrassing, but Brook already felt so comfortable with the Weasleys that it didn’t seem to matter that he was crying in front of this family that he had only just met. And more importantly, Mrs Roberts’ idea was correct; telling those happy memories did help the healing process.

**********

The next day, Ron, Ginny, and Brook met Hermione at Diagon Alley for some last minute Christmas shopping. Brook and Ginny were mostly done with their shopping, but Ron had a lot of things to buy, including his present for Hermione. They shopped together for a while, with Ginny helping Ron come up with ideas for their brothers and parents. The foursome ate lunch together at the Leaky Cauldron before splitting up. As they walked away from the girls, Ron grabbed Brook’s arm and said in a panic, “What am I going to get Hermione? I’ve never bought a Christmas present for a girlfriend before and I want it to be special.” He paused before continuing. “Maybe I should find a book; that’s what I gave her last year. It’s just so hard to find one she hasn’t already read,” he said as he shook his head. “What did you get Ginny?”

“You’ll have to wait until Christmas to see what I bought her. As to Hermione, I don’t think you want to go with a book. That is not a ‘girlfriend’ present. What do you want to tell her with this present?”

Ron’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Tell her? What do you mean?”

“What do you want to communicate to her about the way you feel about her? Your choice is going to speak volumes to her. Girls read into gifts a lot more than we do.”

“Oh. I guess I haven’t really thought of it that way.”

“Well, start thinking about it. You want to tell her how you feel and why she is special to you.”

“Hmm.” He thought for a moment, before a smile broke out on his face. “Of course, she’s smart, the brightest witch in the school and she loves reading. So, a book would be perfect!”

Brook shook his head. “No, a book would not be perfect. Everyone thinks she’s smart. It would be appropriate for Neville or me to get her a book. As a matter of fact, that is what I bought her. How is she special to you?”

After a few moments of considering, “She is so caring to everyone, helping them with their studying. She comforts the younger students when they are scared. She is always thinking of others over herself.”

“Better, but I have seen that as well. You are getting closer. Think some more about what you think of her. I’ve seen you staring at her in class or in the common room. What are thinking then?”

Ron’s eyes acquired a glazed look and a goofy grin. “How beautiful she is,” he said dreamily. “Her eyes, her hair. How lucky I am to have someone so gorgeous be interested in me.”

“That’s it! Something that you see in her that others don’t. I think that Hermione, while she would never admit it, is a little self-conscious about her looks; she would never consider herself ‘gorgeous’. What could you buy her that would show her that you think she is beautiful?”

“Jewellery comes to mind, but, Brook,” he said as looked down at his feet and kicked a small stone, “I don’t have enough money to buy her anything really nice.”

“Let’s go look anyway. Don’t look at the prices; just find things that you think would look good on her. She is not the kind of girl that would like big, ostentatious stuff, which is most likely to be the most expensive. Think simple, but elegant.”

They spent quite a bit of time looking at possibilities. Most of the items that were available were just not right for Hermione, which frustrated Ron. Finally, he found a set of jewel encrusted hair combs that sparkled in the light. The stones were of various colours, and Ron thought they’d be perfect in Hermione’s hair. Ron asked the clerk to get them out and found that the price was a little more than he had to spend, but they were able to haggle the price down to what he could afford.

Brook saw that next to the combs were a set of matching earrings and asked Ron what he thought of them. “They would be perfect, but I can’t afford anything else,” Ron said sheepishly.

“How about if I help you out? You and Hermione have been such good friends to me these past few months, I’d really like to give you a loan. You can pay me back whenever.”

“You’d do that? Wow, thanks, Brook!”

“And now you can help me with a gift for your mom.”

**********

After they had made their purchases, they noted that they still had some time before they were due to meet the girls, so Brook followed Ron into Quality Quidditch Supplies. When they entered, Ron was greeted by the clerk Brook had met that summer. “Ronald Weasley! Happy Christmas! How are you doing? How’s Quidditch at Hogwarts this year? I heard that Gryffindor has a new Seeker. How’s he working out?”

“Hi, Cho. Happy Christmas to you, too. I am doing well. Gryffindor looks pretty good, if I do say so myself. Our Seeker is amazing this year and with his help, I think we can win the Cup. As a matter of fact, here he is,” he said as he turned to reveal Brook. “Cho Chang, meet Brook Pelton, Gryffindor’s Seeker. Cho was Ravenclaw’s Seeker the last few years and she always beat us to the Snitch.”

“Actually, we’ve met,” said Cho, smiling at Brook and putting her hand on his forearm. Her robes were open in the front, revealing a blouse that had several buttons undone and showed off her cleavage. “I sold him his 2C this summer. You are looking good, Mr Pelton, even better than you did this summer. I’ve heard rumours that you indeed are man enough to handle that broomstick. Think you are man enough to handle me? Anything I can say to convince you to reconsider my offer from the summer? I’m done with my shift in a few minutes and we could get away from here for a quiet dinner at my place.” She leaned into Brook, pressing her body against his.

Brook pulled away from Cho, saying, “Sorry, Miss Chang, I’m still not interested. I would appreciate it if you would just let me shop in peace.”

“After all, he’s taken,” said Ginny, coming up beside Brook and taking his arm. She and Hermione had seen the boys enter the Quidditch shop and had followed them in. She had seen and heard the whole interaction between Brook and Cho. “Shall we leave, Brook?” giving Cho a look that clearly said, “Back off! He’s mine.”

“Yes, let’s,” replied Brook and they turned and left the shop arm in arm.

As the two couples left, Ron said to Hermione, “I can’t believe she acted like that. Isn’t she engaged to Cedric Diggory? They’ve been going out since the Yule Ball for the Triwizard Tournament.”

“As far as I know, they still are, and she still is wearing a huge rock on her finger. But she always had a questionable reputation.” At Ron’s obvious befuddled look, she continued. “Didn’t you hear the rumours about her the last two years at Hogwarts? Lavender and Parvati were always going on about her sneaking around with Michael Corner since Cedric wasn’t at school anymore.”

“Corner? That git that Ginny went out with her fourth year?”

“Why do you think she broke up with him? He was always ogling Cho.”

Ginny reddened and started walking slower, so she and Brook fell behind the other couple. Looking down at the ground, she asked quietly, “Brook, what did she mean when she asked you to reconsider her offer from the summer?”

“When I bought my broom this summer, she asked me out, even tried to give me her Floo address. She didn’t throw herself at me like she did today, but she was pretty forward.”

“Why didn’t you take her up on her offer? She is very pretty. She had the boys at Hogwarts drooling over her all the time.”

Surprised at her question, Brook looked down at Ginny and was startled by the change that had come over her. Gone was the confident woman who had claimed him as hers just a few moments before, replaced by an insecure little girl. Brook decided she needed to know exactly what she meant to him. “I agree that she is pretty, but, you see, I walked out of the shop that day, and saw someone far more beautiful down the street. The moment I saw her, all thoughts of Cho Chang instantly disappeared from my mind. I ran after her, but accidently knocked the books out of the hands of a little first year girl while trying to get to her. After I had helped the little girl pick everything up, she was gone. I was devastated that I had missed out on her.”

Ginny looked down and bit her lower lip nervously. “What did she look like?” she asked quietly.

“She had this gorgeous red hair that shone in the sunlight, and little freckles across her cheeks and nose. She had chocolate brown eyes that felt like they could see into my soul. And a smile that just lit up the whole street. I was mesmerized, as if she had cast a spell on me,” he said with a chuckle.

Ginny hit him on the arm playfully. “You’re just making that up, Pot . . . Pelton!”

“Actually, I’m not. Well, I didn’t get close enough to see your freckles or your eyes, but I did see you here at Diagon Alley as I left the Quidditch shop, along with Ron, Hermione, and your mom. Of course, I didn’t know who you all were at the time. I am guessing you were doing your Hogwarts shopping. I saw you leaving your brothers’ shop and I thought I was hallucinating. There you were, the woman from my dreams, but even prettier than I remembered. Any thoughts of Cho Chang were gone in an instant and I had to meet you. Unfortunately, I did indeed run over a first year with an armful of books, and by the time I was done helping her, you were entering the Leaky Cauldron and had left via the Floo before I could get there.”

“Even if that is all true, I am sure I didn’t make you forget Cho Chang,” Ginny said, a hint of scepticism in her voice. “She’s so beautiful and I’m short and plain-looking with all these freckles, this ridiculously red hair, and the body of a boy.”

Brook stopped and turned her to face him. He cupped her face in his hand and said, “Ginevra Molly Weasley, don’t ever say that! You are much prettier than Cho Chang. I meant what I said earlier.” He pulled her into a hug. “Yes, you are short, but your head fits just perfectly under my chin when I hold you.” He then pulled back, lifted his hand, and ran his fingers through her hair. “And your hair is gorgeous.”

Ginny’s eyes widened. “It is?” she asked, clearly surprised that Brook would be attracted to her hair. While she knew that boys thought she was attractive, she had often wished for straight black hair like Cho instead of the trademark Weasley red. “My hair isn’t any different from my brothers’. It isn’t anything special.”

“I beg to differ. I can’t take my eyes off of it when the sun hits it just right. Have you ever just sat in front of a fire, watching the flames and all of the various shades of red and orange and yellow? It can be mesmerizing.” Ginny nodded her agreement, so Brook ploughed ahead. “That’s what I feel like when I see your hair, all those colours sparkling in the sunlight. I love watching it in class when I sit behind you in Transfiguration.”

“So that’s why Professor McGonagall keeps catching you day dreaming,” she giggled.

“Guilty as charged,” Brook said sheepishly.

Ginny inhaled to say something more, but Brook put a finger to her lips. “I’m not finished,” he told her gently. “There’s more of you that has me mesmerized; your eyes, for instance. I could stare into them all day long.”

“I like your eyes, too,” Ginny murmured.

His hand caressed her cheek, travelling down to the corner of her mouth, eliciting a smile. “Your smile does light up wherever you are; when I see it, I can’t help but be happy too.” He placed a light peck on her cheek. “I love your freckles; someday I’d like to kiss every one of them,” pausing as she giggled to place a kiss on her neck, “all over your beautifully curved body.” He pulled back, lifting his right eyebrow and giving her a mischievous grin. She felt her face heat up as she realized what he had suggested.

“Hey, you two, break it up,” they heard Ron say, causing them to break off the kiss. As Ron neared, he whispered, “You two need to be careful. I don’t know what you were talking about, but you were starting to glow!” Aloud, he said, “We thought we had lost you and had to come back for you. We need to be getting back home.”

“Leave them alone, Ronald. They’re in love,” said Hermione.

“That we are,” Brook whispered to Ginny, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. “Do you understand better what I see when I look at you now?” She smiled and nodded. “Good. Then let’s catch up with Ron and Hermione.” He then grabbed her hand and led her toward the Leaky Cauldron so they could return to the Burrow.

**********

Ron woke up Brook Christmas morning with a yell, “Brook, Brook, wake up, presents!” At the foot of his bed was a pile of presents, which surprised Brook a little since he was used to them all being under the tree. He was also surprised at the size of the pile; he had not been expecting much in the way of gifts, but there were a lot more than he thought there would be. Not sure what to do, he looked over at Ron who was digging in and tearing the wrapping off of his presents madly. Brook wondered how he knew who gave him what with the mania that he was using to attack them. Brook decided to start opening his own presents. He started with the smaller ones on top, finding a box of assorted candies from Honeydukes from Ron and various trick sweets from the twins; he sampled one from Ron but knew better than to touch anything from Weasley Wizard Wheezes. He next opened a book from Hermione on Apparating with a note saying that this book had helped her when she learned last year and she knew that Remus was going to start teaching Brook after the first of the year. He then opened a larger lumpy package; inside was a forest green sweater with a Gryffindor lion knitted into the chest.

“Wow, you received a Weasley jumper,” said Ron through a mouthful of candy. “Sorry, mate. Mum makes them for all of us every Christmas.”

Brook teared up as he thought of his own mom’s tradition of knitting something for him every year. Sometimes it was a stocking cap, sometimes a scarf, sometimes an afghan. Brook pulled the sweater on over his pyjamas and found that it fit.

Ron, not noticing Brook’s reaction, asked, “What’s this, Brook?” He had pulled out the book that Brook had given him as a present. “Paintball: Stealth and Team Strategy? What’s paintball?”

“Paintball is a sport that I played in America. It uses guns that shoot pellets of paint; when the pellets hit an opponent, they break open and leave a splatter of colour. I was the captain of a team there and this book helped me in coming up with plans during our battles. I’ve noticed that during DA sessions, you have focused on one on one or at the most two on two duelling. This book describes ways to organize teams of 6-8 people to defeat another team. I was thinking that many of the same strategies could be used in a magical battle if we ever had to face a group of Death Eaters. I gave a copy to Professor Lupin as well, so you can work together.”

“That sounds fantastic, mate. I’ll look through this with Hermione when she gets here and we can make suggestions to Professor Lupin to start using some of these ideas in DA sessions!”

They had finished opening presents and so Brook slipped a small present into his pocket and went down to breakfast. On his way, he knocked on Ginny’s door.

“Come in, Brook,” she replied.

“How’d you know it was me,” he asked as he opened the door.

“You’re the only one who would knock,” she said with a grin. She stood up and gave him a big hug and said, “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas to you too,” he said, though his voice was muffled in her Weasley jumper as he squeezed back.

“I see you received a Weasley jumper. You’ve made a good impression already. She couldn’t have started on it until you arrived and she figured out your size.”

They had agreed to exchange gifts away from the rest of the family, so Brook pulled out the box from his pocket and Ginny went over to her trunk and pulled out a package for Brook. “You go first,” said Ginny.

Brook opened a framed Wizarding picture showing the two of them sitting on the ground in front of a tree. Ginny was sitting between Brook’s legs and he had his arms around her. Occasionally he would bend down and kiss her on the neck. Both of them were beaming with happiness. “I love it; just the thing for my bedside table,” said Brook.

“Wait, that’s not all. Tap the picture with your wand and say ‘Revelio. ’”

Brook did as he was asked and the picture changed to a similar pose but with Ginny and Harry instead. “This is great! How did you do that? I know Colin never took a picture of me as Harry.”

“I borrowed his camera and sneaked a picture of you in the Room of Requirement. Colin then showed me how to edit the photos so that I could put you in as Harry. I made myself one also for my dorm room.”

“I didn’t know there was a magical equivalent of Photoshop; I guess I shouldn’t be surprised though. It seems like there is a magical way of reproducing a lot of Muggle technology.”

“If you tap it with your wand again, it goes back to the original picture, and after five minutes it will return to normal on its own, even if you don’t tap it.”

“This is absolutely wonderful; you are a very talented witch,” as he gave her a big hug. “Here is yours.”

Ginny excitedly opened the small present, revealing a velvet covered box. Inside was a gold necklace with the pendant consisting of two entwined circles, with a red ruby at the intersection. “It’s beautiful!” she said. “Will you put it on me, please?”

Brook took the necklace in his hands and walked around behind Ginny, placing it around her neck as she held her hair out of the way. He wandlessly locked the door, removed his ring and wrapped his arms around her from behind as she admired her present in the mirror.

“What a beautiful couple,” said the mirror, shocking Harry.

“Did that mirror just talk?”

“Don’t you have magic mirrors in the boys’ dorm at Hogwarts? All of ours talk to us. Some are very nice and complimentary, while others can get a little snarky.” asked Ginny.

“No, we don’t. Just when I think I am getting used to the magical world, something else surprises me.”

She turned and put her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I love the necklace; I’ll never take it off.”

After a little more kissing, Harry replaced his ring and they went down to the kitchen for breakfast. Ron asked, “What have the two of you been doing? We’ve been waiting on you and I’m starving.”

“We were exchanging our gifts in person, if you must know, Ronald,” said Ginny, with an obvious tone suggesting he butt out.

When Brook saw Mrs Weasley, he grabbed her into a hug that rivalled one of hers. He whispered, “Thank you so much for my sweater, or I guess I should say jumper, Mrs Weasley. It really means a lot to me that you would make me something so personal. My mom used to knit me something for Christmas every year and your gift has helped make what could have been a very difficult day a wonderful one.” As he finished, tears were running down his cheeks, getting her shoulder wet.

“Now, now, dear,” she said as she patted his back. “How could I not make you something for Christmas? If you are that special to Ginny, you are special to us too.” When they finally separated, Molly’s eyes had some unshed tears also. “And thank you for the present you gave me too. I’ve wanted something like it for years, but they are so expensive. You really shouldn’t have spent so much on me.” She looked at him with a look that Brook recognized as the same mischievous sparkle in the eyes as another red-headed female and said, “You aren’t trying to get in my good graces by plying me with gifts, are you?”

Brook grinned and responded, “Are you trying to get in my good graces by serving all this delicious food?”

Molly chuckled and gave him another hug, before leading him over to the table. The family all sat down to breakfast, talking about the presents they had received. Molly started by saying, “Look everyone at what Brook gave me.” She held up her wrist, showing a charm bracelet. “It has a charm for each of my children. There is even one for Fleur and Audrey,” she said, beaming.

Brook had enlisted Ron’s help in finding just the right charms for each member of the family. For some of the brothers, it was easy. An Egyptian ankh for Bill, a dragon for Charlie, a chess pawn for Ron. As they were looking at the jewellery store, they found a symbol for Gemini separated into two pieces that fit together like puzzle pieces for George and Fred. He needed help with finding just the right one for Percy. Eventually he settled on a miniature cauldron, as Percy had worked with cauldrons at the Ministry and one of his favourite subjects at Hogwarts was Potions. He had planned to get a Quaffle for Ginny, but while looking found a small beetle whose abdomen would periodically light up, the perfect manifestation of a firefly, Mr Weasley’s favourite term of endearment for his only daughter. He had found a rose for Fleur and a quill for Audrey as she worked as a clerk for the ministry.

After getting showered and dressed, Ginny and Brook helped Molly in the kitchen, peeling and slicing vegetables, kneading bread, and stirring cauldrons, all in preparation for the big meal in the early afternoon. Bill and Fleur and Audrey came and joined the rest of the family for the feast. During the meal, Bill tapped on his glass with his fork and stood up. “I have an announcement to make and what better day to make it, on the day we celebrate Christ’s birth, to tell everyone that Fleur and I are expecting! We are due in in August!”

Everyone stood up and hugged the happy couple. Ginny had told Brook that when she first met Fleur, they did not get along; she even called her “Phlegm” behind her back. However, their relationship had grown in the past year and Brook could tell how excited Ginny was to be an aunt.

After everyone had finished eating too much but couldn’t find the energy to get up from the table, Mr Weasley asked, “Brook, your friend’s mum suggested you share some of your Christmas memories with us. What Christmas traditions did your family have? How did you do presents? I am guessing you celebrated a little differently than we do.”

“Well, our presents were always under the tree. There would be a few presents put out before Christmas Eve, to sort of stir up some of my curiosity. On Christmas Eve, we would go to church for a candlelight service, and then after we returned home, there was always one present for me to open: a new pair of pyjamas so I would look good for the pictures taken the next morning.”

“I can attest to the fact that Brook’s parents liked to take pictures on Christmas morning,” added Ginny. “Brook showed me his family photo album, and it is filled with pictures of Brook opening presents.”

Brook rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dad did tend to overdo it a bit,” he said with a chuckle.

Fred interjected, “Oh, we can’t imagine a father overdoing anything, can we?” causing Mr Weasley to turn red and the rest of the family to laugh.

“Did you bring any of those albums with you, Brook?” Mrs Weasley asked. “I’d love to see what you looked like when you were a little boy.”

Brook looked nervously at Ginny for a moment before answering. “Um, no, I left them at Hogwarts,” he lied. It wouldn’t do for the Weasleys to see me with black hair and green eyes, he thought.

Attempting to change the subject, Brook resumed. “On Christmas morning, I would have to wait at the top of the stairs until I heard Christmas music as the signal that I could come down and see what ‘Santa Claus’ brought. I remember always being in awe at seeing all the presents under the tree. We would hang stockings on the mantle and they would be filled with small presents like candy, little trinkets, and, as a reminder, thank you notes.”

“Thank you notes?” asked Ron.

“Yeah, Mom and Dad wanted to make sure I would thank everyone who gave me presents, so this was their subtle hint that I needed to write a short note in appreciation of their kindness.” He then continued. “After finishing opening the stocking gifts, we would eat breakfast. Mom would always put an orange in the toe of my stocking for part of the breakfast.”

“What else would you have for breakfast?” asked Mrs Weasley.

“It would depend, but most years the three of us would make homemade doughnuts out of biscuit dough.” Seeing the confusion on Mrs Weasley’s face, he added, “What we call biscuits in the US are more like dinner rolls. What you call biscuits, we call cookies. We would also generally have sausage or bacon.”

“Then, we would open the larger presents under the tree. We always took turns opening presents so that we could see what each of us had received.”

“What types of presents did you receive?” asked Mr Weasley.

“Obviously, that would depend on how old I was. When I was younger, it was mostly toys, and I hated receiving any clothes, but when I became a teenager, I enjoyed the clothes more. There was always at least one book, and one family game for all of us to enjoy. And, as I already mentioned to Mrs Weasley, Mom would always knit something for my dad and me.” He paused to wipe away a small tear that had formed at this memory. “Thanks again for my sweater, Mrs Weasley,” he said, his voice cracking.

She gave him a smile and said, “You’re welcome, Brook. I’m glad I could continue one of your family traditions for you.”

Brook recovered with a deep breath. “Then, Christmas day was generally spent enjoying our presents. We would always have a simple dinner of cheese and crackers so Mom wouldn’t have to cook a big meal. It was always a special time for the just the three of us.”

He paused for a moment and added, “But, celebrating with a big family certainly has its appeal. While it is very different from what I am used to, I am enjoying myself. Thanks for allowing me to be a part of it.” He then leaned over and whispered to Ginny, “I could get used to this; do you think I could come every year?”

Ginny blushed slightly and lifted her eyebrows, suggesting, “Perhaps.”

Before they finished the meal, a tapping was heard at the kitchen window. Mrs Weasley arose and let in the owl that had been sitting on the sill, and it promptly flew to Brook’s shoulder and held out its leg. Unsure who would be writing him a letter, Brook removed the parchment to unroll it, revealing a letter from Lydia.

Dear Brook,

You’ll never guess what I received for Christmas from my grandparents! A Firebolt 2C- Harpy Edition! Gran apparently flew for them when she was younger and used her connections to get one. It’s hard to imagine my gran flying on a broom, nonetheless as a Beater. I took it out this afternoon, and it flies so much better than those school brooms. I can’t wait to get back to school and race you. You might have to be careful; I might take that Seeker’s spot from you.

Just kidding. I hope you are having a good day. If you start missing your family too much, I’m sure Ginny can come up with some way to distract you. Wink, wink.

See you back at school,

Lydia

“Who’s the letter from?” asked George.

“Lydia Forest, a friend of mine from Hogwarts,” replied Brook as he was reading.

“Why is a girl writing a letter to you, and why here of all places?” growled Charlie.

Brook looked up at Ginny’s brother, confused at the anger in his voice and the redness of his face. Then, he realized what Charlie was upset about. “Oh, it’s nothing like that. She’s a third year. She’s the Gryffindor reserve Seeker and I’ve been helping her with her flying.”

Ginny wrapped her arm around Brook’s and looked over his shoulder. “What does she say?”

“She wanted to tell me that she received a Firebolt 2C- Harpy Edition for Christmas,” replied Brook.

“I’ve heard of the 2C, but what’s the Harpy Edition?” asked Charlie.

Ron answered, “The 2C might be the best broom on the market currently, but it does have one major flaw: it was designed for wizards and is too long for many witches.”

“Yeah, I’ve tried to ride Brook’s broom and it is just too big for me,” added Ginny.

“Ginny isn’t the only one,” Ron continued. “There was an article in Which Broomstick this month about it. Apparently, the 2C has become a favourite for most professional Quidditch players, but most of the Holyhead Harpies were too short to fly it. The owner of the Harpies complained to the Firebolt Company, and the company responded by making a smaller version. They named it the Harpy Edition in their honour.” He turned to Brook and asked, “How did Lydia get one? The article said that they wouldn’t be available for the general market until March.”

“It turns out that her grandmother was a Harpy in her day and was able to use her connections to the team to get one for Lydia,” replied Brook.

“Wow,” said Ron, with a glazed look in his eyes, “two Firebolt 2C’s on our team. Do you think she might let Ginny use it for our matches?”

“I don’t know, but I would suspect that she would. She’s definitely a team player.” Brook turned to Ginny, grinned, and asked, “Do you think you can handle that broom? You saw what happened to the Slytherins in our match.”

Ginny slapped him lightly on the arm. “Just you watch, Pelton. If Lydia lets me, I’ll fly circles around you once we have equal brooms.”

Brook chuckled. “I don’t doubt it. You’re probably the best flyer in the school.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Ginny responded, pointing a finger in his face before breaking out in giggles.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing as a family, whether in the sitting room or in the kitchen, with many members of the family taking at least a short nap. Dinner consisted of leftovers from the earlier feast. After dinner, Brook went upstairs to Ron’s room to show Ginny the book that Hermione had given him on Apparating. As he picked it up, he noticed a wrapped present sitting at the foot of his bed. “How could I have missed that this morning?” he wondered. He picked up the small box that looked the shape to hold a quill or a wand and unwrapped it. He then opened the box, pulling out what indeed was a quill. He felt a tugging sensation at his navel and he was gone.

A/N: Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I promise you won't have too wait long for the next chapter.

Back to index


Chapter 22: Resurrection

Author's Notes: I promised I wouldn't make you wait to long for the next chapter, so here it is.

Again, thanks to Arnel for her insightful beta work.


Resurrection

Brook landed awkwardly at his destination, falling on some dormant grass. He shivered despite the fact that the warm weather had continued and he wasn’t cold without a cloak. He looked around at his surroundings, lit by a pale half-moon, and found he was in a graveyard. He turned and read the simple headstone directly in front of him, which said, “Tom Riddle, Senior. Born 1905 Died 1943.” Brook thought, “That name sounds familiar to me, but I can’t quite place it.” He then felt a sudden stab of pain in his forehead. He put his hand to his scar and then heard the snap of a twig and turned quickly, his wand at the ready.

Ah, I see you have arrived, Brook Pelton.” Brook recognized the high, cold voice from the vision he had in November. He raised his wand higher to be able to spread the light further, and saw a short man with beady eyes, thinning hair, and a pointed nose holding a small bundle in a blanket. “Or should I say, Harry Potter?” Brook was shocked to see that it was the bundle that was speaking, not the small man. In the shadow of the blankets, he could just make out the shape of a head, but could not see any features in the dark. “Shall we dispense with the charade and have you remove the ring and reveal your true self? Your disguise does you no good here; we both know the truth.”

“Who are you? Why am I here?” asked Brook, even though he suspected that he knew the answers before he asked. His headache worsened, and he breathed through his teeth to hide his pain.

“I am Lord Voldemort, and you are here to help me regain my rightful body that you stole from me sixteen years ago! You see, you possess the final ingredient I need to complete my return, but I had almost given up trying to find you. Imagine my delight when my assistant here told me you were hiding behind glamours and where to find you. Now, take off the ring so I can see my true enemy.”

How did he see me without my ring? He searched his memory for any time that Voldemort’s follower could have seen him, but nothing came to him. I can figure that out later; now I have more pressing questions to answer. The ‘why’ he was here was obvious to Brook. He needs my blood for the potion. I need to figure out where I am and how I can escape.

But before he could work on the solution, Voldemort said, “Expelliarmus” and Brook lost his wand. “Again, I will say, take off the ring, or we will take it off for you.” Brook stood defiantly, refusing to give in. Voldemort then said, “Okay, if you insist, Crucio!” Brook fell to the ground in excruciating pain. If he thought his headaches were bad, this was much worse. As he writhed on the ground, he felt as if every joint was being pulled out of socket and every muscle was being ripped apart.

After what seemed like an eternity the pain ebbed, though his headache continued. As he lay on the ground, breathing deeply, trying to recover from the agony, he felt someone grab his right hand and try to remove his ring. Brook opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was the headstone again. For some reason, he knew that the name was a clue. Then, it dawned on Brook; Tom Riddle was Voldemort’s birth name! I must be in front of his father’s grave. Brook’s attention was brought back to the present when he felt the small man tugging on his hand and Brook reflexively pulled it back against his chest. Voldemort’s lackey grabbed at his hand again and jerked on the ring, but Remus’ charm held it in place.

“It won’t come off, Master,” said the man.

“There must be a charm preventing it from being removed. Maybe a little more persuasion is needed,” said the small bundle, now perched on a nearby headstone. “Crucio!” The pain started again, this time feeling like his insides were being pulled out through his skin. However, after a few seconds the pain stopped. “Now will you remove the ring, or do I have to cut off your finger?” hissed Voldemort. The other man pulled out a long, thin, shining silver dagger from his cloak and grinned evilly at the thought of using it on Brook.

Brook thought about it and decided that there really was no reason not to comply, since they knew his identity, and it wasn’t worth losing a finger for. “Alright, I’ll take it off,” he said resignedly. He reached over and removed the ring and put it in his pocket, revealing his real appearance.

“Ah, here you are, Harry,” the bundle said. “My assistant said that you looked just like your foolish father and he was right,” Voldemort said.

“My father was not foolish! He sacrificed his life to save me and my mother!”

“And what good did it do him? He ended up dead and so did your Mudblood mother. Who did they think they were, thinking they could stand up to me?”

Sounding much more confident than he felt, Harry retorted, “Their actions saved me and separated you from your body for all this time. Just think, Lord Voldemort defeated by a little defenceless baby!” As soon as he said it, however, he regretted it as his scar erupted with even more pain from Voldemort’s anger.

“Enough of your insolence. We need to get on with the ritual. Stupefy!” and all Harry knew was blackness.

**********

When Harry came to, he recognized that he was bound to the marble headstone with both arms outstretched and a gag in his mouth. He struggled to move, but could not budge. He looked around and saw a large stone cauldron filled with liquid. The assistant was busying himself at its bottom, and soon there was a crackling fire underneath the cauldron. The liquid heated very quickly and was soon bubbling, emitting a thick steam. Harry could even see sparks on the surface of the water.

“Our guest has awakened,” said Voldemort. “Now, proceed.”

The small man turned to the bundle and pleaded, “Master, is all of the ingredients necessary? Certainly there are other options.”

“I am disappointed. Because you found Potter, I am giving you this honour of being the only one to aid my resurrection. Would you rather I summoned the rest of my followers?”

The man bowed down, quickly responding, “Oh, no, Master. I am sorry for my reluctance.”

“It will all be forgiven if we are successful this night. It is time.”

The man walked over to the bundle and removed the blankets around it, exposing a hideous creature. It had the shape of a small child, but its skin was raw and covered in sores. It reached out its thin and feeble arms just like a toddler would to his parent, and the underling picked it up, carrying it over to the cauldron before dropping it into the bubbling liquid.

As fear gripped him, Brook’s thoughts turned to Ginny. Images of her danced before his eyes and the idea that he might never see her again dawned on him. Ginny! I wish you could hear me! I’m in a cemetery! They’re going to kill me! They’ve tied me to Voldemort’s father’s headstone! I wish there was some way you could help me, he thought.

Voldemort’s assistant then waved his wand as he said, “Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son.” Then, as he pointed his wand down, the ground before the headstone cracked. Harry watched as a fine dust rose into the air and floated over to the cauldron directed by the assistant’s wand. The liquid roiled more violently, emitting a hiss and sparks, before turning a vivid blue.

He then pulled out the dagger, and hesitated before saying, “Flesh– of the servant–w- willingly given– you will revive– your master.” He raised his right arm over the cauldron and, with a quick slice of the dagger, he cut off his hand at the wrist and the hand fell into the potion, again causing an eruption of bubbles, the potion turning a blazing red that lit the area in an eerie glow. The man hissed at the pain, grabbed his arm and then wrapped a cloth around it to stop the bleeding.

He then staggered over to where Harry was, holding the dagger out. “B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe.” Harry struggled against his bonds, but could do nothing to prevent the man’s next action. He closed his eyes in preparation and felt the point of the dagger penetrate the crook of his arm, followed by the sensation of blood soaking the sleeve of his sweater. The assistant fumbled with his robes as he returned the dagger to his pocket and then pulled out a small glass vial. The vial trembled as he held it underneath the dripping blood, collecting several drops. The man then staggered back to the cauldron and poured Harry’s blood into the bubbling potion. The liquid turned a blinding white, causing Harry to squint against the intensity of it. The assistant fell to the ground, cradling his stump of an arm, sobbing in pain.

For a few moments, the liquid continued to boil, giving off diamond-like sparks. As time passed, Harry thought, Is it too much to hope that he drowned? Suddenly, a surge of white steam erupted from the cauldron, obscuring everything around it. Please, let it have gone wrong! thought Harry. But then out of the mist before him, the outline of a man materialized. Harry could first see his skeletal, gangly body with spider-like fingers. Then, as he stepped out of the smoke, a face appeared out of the darkness. The head was a white in colour, oblong in shape and bald. His eyes were thin but were so bloodshot they almost looked like they glowed red. His nose was flat, like a snake’s, with only slits in which to breathe through.

“Robe me,” said the high, cold voice that gave Harry chills. The Voldemort’s follower lurched to his feet and scrambled to pick up the robes from where he had left them.

“Much better,” Voldemort said as he stretched his arms and flexed his fingers. “This is much improved, my real body back after all these years,” said Voldemort.

He turned to his assistant, holding out his hand, and said, “My wand.” The lackey pulled a wand out of a pocket under his robes and handed it to his master. Voldemort caressed the wand before pointing it at Harry. Harry, expecting a painful curse, braced himself, but was shocked as his bindings disappeared and he fell hard to the ground, panting from the pain in his body.

“Now,” Harry heard Voldemort say to his underling, “go back to our headquarters and I will follow shortly, after I finish off this impudent boy once and for all!” With a pop, the other man was gone.

As Harry staggered to his feet, Voldemort said, “Since you were bragging about a defenceless baby defeating me earlier, I will give you another chance to fight me, and I’ll even let you have your wand,” Voldemort said as he swished his wand, causing Harry’s wand to drop at his feet.

Harry picked up his wand and assumed a defensive stance as he looked around. With all of the headstones, there was lots of cover, and he knew how to use it. As Voldemort started through his first wand motion, Harry dived behind one of the nearby tombstones, avoiding the spell. He tried to throw some spells back, but Voldemort lazily brushed them away as if they were nothing. “I’m disappointed; I was hoping for more of a challenge from you.” Voldemort then began throwing spell after curse after hex at Harry, but Harry was able to dodge most of them, and the ones that did land were just glancing blows. Just like in his last paintball game, everything slowed down and Harry could see all of the spells approaching him like they were in slow motion, allowing him to avoid them. Harry occasionally threw a spell himself, but mostly to keep Voldemort on his toes. “Stop dodging and fight like a real wizard!” screamed Voldemort after several minutes of this. It was obvious to Harry that Voldemort was becoming angry and he hoped that Voldemort would be more likely to make a mistake, so he kept it up.

At one point, Harry jumped up in the air over a spell and while still in the air shot a Cutting Curse at Voldemort, hitting him in the shoulder and resulting in a large gash with blood pouring down the arm. This enraged Voldemort even more, as he sent spell after spell, destroying many of the monuments that Harry was using for cover. From then on, Harry was unable to get any spells past his opponent’s defences. Harry started to tire and knew that he was going to be in trouble soon. I can’t hit him with any spells directly; what can I do that he won’t be able to block? Harry thought, when an idea came to him. He yelled, “Reducto!” aiming at the base of a large statue next to Voldemort.

Voldemort let out a bone chilling laugh. “That wasn’t even close, Potter! I see that the training at Hogwarts has not improved recently.” A few seconds later, he said, Wait! What are you smirking at?”

What Voldemort didn’t realize was that Harry, by hitting the base of the statue, had made it unstable. Harry watched as it slowly fell, pinning Voldemort underneath it. Harry was going to hit Voldemort with a Stupefy when he heard two pops to his left. He looked over and saw Dumbledore and Remus had arrived. When Voldemort saw Harry’s reinforcements, he swore and then disappeared with a pop.

Harry fell down on one knee, breathing deeply, recovering from the fight. Dumbledore and Remus ran over to him and asked if he was okay.

“I didn’t get hit directly by any spells,” he panted, “but I do have… some cuts and bruises from dodging them… and the shards from… some exploding headstones. I should be fine… once I catch my breath.” He took a deep breath before standing gingerly with Remus’ assistance. “How did you find me?”

Dumbledore answered. “As soon as the Weasleys realized you were gone, they contacted me and Remus and I met at Hogwarts to figure out what our plan should be to find you. Then a few minutes ago, Ginny said she had this feeling that you were in the cemetery where Voldemort’s father was buried. She apparently had to convince her parents and brothers to let her Floo call me, but she insisted. I am sure you know how she can get when she puts her mind to something,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “I knew about Voldemort’s family, so we came right here.”

“Thanks,” Harry breathed as Remus put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

Dumbledore continued, “I have a number of questions about tonight’s events, but I would recommend we return to Hogwarts where you can be treated by Madam Pomfrey and we can reassure the Weasleys that you are okay.” Dumbledore pulled a pocket watch out of the folds of his robe. “Harry, put your hand on this,” he instructed. “It will take us back to the hospital wing. Oh, wait, where is your ring? You should change back to Brook before Madam Pomfrey sees you.”

Harry pulled the ring out of his pocket and replaced it on his finger before grabbing the watch along with Remus. Dumbledore tapped it with his wand, and, with a tugging sensation, they left the graveyard and appeared an instant later in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey, who had been placed on call in case Brook was found to be hurt, jumped up and rushed to the trio. “Is he hurt?” she asked.

“Just a few cuts and bruises. The worst one is on my arm, here,” said Brook. But when he looked over at his arm, there was nothing there.

Dumbledore spoke up, “Brook, it looks like the charm on your ring is going to prevent Madam Pomfrey from seeing your injuries; you must remove it so she can treat you. Poppy, I must insist that you keep what you are about to see a secret.”

Brook removed his ring, returning to his Harry persona. Madam Pomfrey gasped and Dumbledore explained about Harry and why he was hiding behind the illusion of Brook.

“While she is taking care of you, I will Floo call the Weasleys to let them know you are okay,” said Remus.

Madam Pomfrey healed his wounds and then waved her wand over him. “’Just a few cuts and bruises’? You’ve been exposed to the Cruciatus Curse! Stubborn boy, you need to tell me what is wrong if I am going to help you!”

A few minutes and a few potions later, Harry was feeling better, but still tired, when Ginny ran into the Hospital wing followed by Remus. “Harry, Harry! Are you okay?” she said as she reached him and wrapped her arms around him, throwing him back on the bed with her momentum. “I was so worried about you! What happened to you? Please tell me! Are you hurt?” As she pulled back, Harry could see that she had been crying and fresh tears were falling from her eyes.

Harry chuckled as he answered, “If you give me a chance to answer, I will,” brushing the tears off her cheek. “I’m okay; just a few cuts and bruises. Voldemort kidnapped me and we had a duel.”

“Tom!” she shuddered. “That’s what I was afraid of! How did he take you? What do you mean a duel?”

Dumbledore interrupted. “Miss Weasley, welcome back to Hogwarts. I assume that Mr Lupin was unable to keep you away.” Remus nodded behind the couple with a smirk. “Why don’t we all go to my office to discuss what happened.”

Once they were in the headmaster’s office, Dumbledore sat behind his desk and the other three sat in two chairs, Ginny sitting next to Harry in one that had been slightly enlarged to accommodate the couple. Harry leaned on his girlfriend as he sipped some tea, as Dumbledore asked, “So, Harry, are you ready to describe the events of the evening?”

Harry closed his eyes and took a cleansing breath before starting. He began with finding the “present” on his bed and told what happened in detail. When he was done, Dumbledore sat back, his face pensive. After a few moments, he asked, “Do you have any idea how Voldemort could have learned of your secret? How did he know that Brook Pelton was actually Harry Potter and how did he learn about the ring?”

“He just said that his assistant had seen me, but I don’t know when that would have been possible.”

“Who was this assistant? Have you seen him before?”

Harry thought for a moment. “I don’t think he ever called him by name. At least I can’t remember one. And I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”

“Is there any way that someone at school could have seen you with your ring off?” asked Dumbledore.

Harry considered the question for a few seconds. “I don’t think so. The only time it has been off at school has been in the Room of Requirement a couple of times, the trophy room once, and the classroom where Remus tutors me. We know that no one could have been hiding in the Room of Requirement when we used it because of the way it works. I doubt that anyone could have seen me either of the other times. I don’t know how I could have been seen.”

“How about since you have been at the Burrow?” asked the Headmaster.

Ginny answered this time. “He only took the ring off twice there and we locked the door and pulled the blinds both times, so no one could have seen him then.”

“I will resist the temptation to ask about the Room of Requirement or the times at the Burrow,” Dumbledore said with a wink. “Keep thinking about how the assistant could have seen you, because something tells me that knowing this maybe important.”

Suddenly, Harry doubled over in pain, falling to the ground, the cup of tea shattering next to him. In an instant, Ginny was beside him and she pulled his head into her lap, gently rubbing his scar, whispering, “Build that wall, build that wall, Harry.”

After a few minutes, Harry’s body relaxed and he sat back up uneasily. “Professor, a bowl or pail, please. I’m going to be sick.”

The Headmaster flicked his wand and a pail appeared next to Harry. He promptly lost his dinner. When he was done, Ginny handed him a damp flannel and Dumbledore Vanished the pail with its contents.

“Are you alright, Harry?” asked Ginny.

“Yeah, I’m better. Thanks for rubbing my forehead; doing that really helps me block him out.”

Ginny helped Harry back into the chair. “Did you see anything this time, Harry?” asked Remus.

Harry took a deep breath. “Yeah. He’s angrier than I have ever felt him this time because I escaped. He was throwing spells all around a room, destroying furniture, and then several men in black robes and masks like on the platform at the beginning of the year came in. He pointed his wand at one of them and screamed, ‘Avery! You failed in your mission. You will have to face the consequences!’ Then, an orange light came streaming out of his wand, hitting the man in the chest, and it was like his insides just exploded. I could see his heart as it stopped beating and his intestines just lying there on the floor as an ever enlarging pool of blood surrounded him. Then he yelled at the other men, ‘Observe what happens when I am not obeyed. See that it never happens again!’ That’s when the vision ended.” He pulled Ginny tighter for comfort.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Harry. Were you able to see anything that would help us figure out where they are?”

Harry thought, reviewing the scene in his mind. “No, Professor. It was a large room with stone walls, but other than that I couldn’t tell you anything.”

“That is alright. I was hopeful, but not really expecting any clues.”

After a few sips of a new cup of tea to calm his stomach, Harry asked, “Professor, I know you told me about a prophecy that stated that I could defeat Voldemort. Is there anything else in the prophecy that would help me know how to defeat him?”

Dumbledore thought for a moment. “I think that it is time for you to hear the whole prophecy… Wait, did you hear something? Let me check the room before I answer that question.” Dumbledore waved his wand, whispering some incantation that Harry and Ginny could not hear.

When he was done, he sat back down and continued, “Before you were born, there was a prophecy concerning Voldemort, given by our own Professor Trelawney.”

“What did the prophecy say?” asked Ginny, leaning forward in the chair.

“It went like this:

‘The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ...’

Dumbledore was writing on a parchment as he spoke, and then handed the parchment to Harry. “I wrote it down so that you could study it more easily. But I caution you that this must not fall into the wrong hands, so please memorize it and destroy the parchment.”

Harry and Ginny reviewed the written prophecy. “I remember you telling me that because of the prophecy, my parents went into hiding. I assume my parents fought Voldemort three times.” Harry looked up and Dumbledore nodded. “And I learned this summer that I was born at the end of July.” He thought for a moment. “So the prophecy says that I am the only one who can defeat Voldemort? And because of this prophecy, Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby and again today?”

“Actually, when the prophecy was given, it could have referred to one of two babies. Neville Longbottom also met the requirements.” Harry and Ginny both gasped. “Neville’s parents were Aurors and battled Voldemort as well. But I believe Voldemort chose you over Neville. When he gave you that scar, he marked you as his equal, and, thus, his true enemy. But he only heard the first part of the prophecy, concerning your birth and your ability to defeat him. He didn’t hear the second part about the power that you have that he doesn’t.”

Harry considered this as he continued to study the prophecy in his hand. “What is this ‘power the Dark Lord knows not’?” asked Ginny.

“I have given that much thought over the last eighteen years,” Dumbledore said as he sat back in his chair. “Voldemort knows about many different kinds of power. Power is what drives him. But there is one power that he knows nothing about: love. Sadly, through his life, he has never known love and he rejects any feeling for other beings other than hatred or contempt. So, I feel fairly confident that the ‘power he knows not’ is love.”

“How can love be that power? How could I use love to defeat Voldemort?” asked Harry. “It’s not like I could hug him to death.”

“But maybe Mum could,” whispered Ginny, forcing Harry to suppress a giggle.

A smile spread across Dumbledore’s face as he replied, “I am not sure. That is why I am so interested in this Soul Bond the two of you have developed. Perhaps that is part of the answer.”

The room grew quite as everyone thought about the ramifications of the prophecy. After a few minutes, Harry asked, “Ginny, how did you know where I was?”

“I’m not sure. I was just pacing in the sitting room, worried sick about you, and in the back of my mind I thought of Tom’s father and the cemetery. Since I had no reason to think of that, I figured it must be a vision of some sort. I tried to contact Professor Dumbledore, but my family thought I was just being a silly girl. I eventually convinced them, and I’m glad I did.”

“Ginny, can you remember exactly what you thought?” asked Harry.

Ginny put a finger on her chin and stared into space. “Let’s see. It started with my name being called, like someone trying to get my attention. Then the word ‘cemetery’ and ‘Voldemort’s father’. Why?”

Harry’s eyes widened in excitement. “That’s exactly what I was thinking when I was bound to that headstone! Remember when Professor Dumbledore asked us about hearing each other’s thoughts? I think you heard my mental cries and that’s how you knew where I was!”

Dumbledore said, “That is just another thing for you to work on, now that Voldemort is back to full strength, or will soon be. It looks like we will have to work even faster in preparing you now, Harry. Remus, I think you were planning on teaching him Apparation after the holidays, but perhaps you can start teaching him at the Burrow.”

“That would be fine with me,” said Remus with a nod.

“Can Ginny learn, too?” asked Harry. “I know she doesn’t turn seventeen until this summer, but I think she could be in danger if Voldemort learns of our relationship.”

“That is a good idea,” said Dumbledore. “I think teaching Miss Weasley could be very beneficial. She is scheduled to start Apparation lessons in a few months anyway, so she will just be getting a short head start. I will also see if I can pull some strings to allow her to be licensed before her birthday.”

Ginny put her arms around Harry’s neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Harry. I can’t wait to start!” she whispered in his ear.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, getting the attention of the couple. “With Voldemort back to full power, I also think that you should tell Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys the truth about you, Harry. Maybe Hermione can help you figure out more about the Soul Bond and if this is indeed the ‘power that he knows not’. We should also have Bill strengthen the wards around the Burrow after he knows everything, that is, if they decide to let you stay there. You are welcome to come back to Hogwarts for the remainder of the holidays if they feel uncomfortable with you there. I’ll let you decide how to do that, Harry.

“But now, I think we should get you back to the Burrow; it’s late, you need your rest, and I know that there is houseful of people waiting to hear news about you.”

Harry put his ring back on and then he and Ginny used the Floo to return to the Burrow. As soon as Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, he was engulfed by Mrs Weasley. “Oh, Brook, are you really okay? Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m fine, Mrs Weasley.” As soon as she let go, Brook was hugged by Hermione as well. “We were all so worried!”

“Hermione, what are you doing here?” asked Brook, shocked at her presence.

“Ron Floo called me about your disappearance and I came right over; I just couldn’t wait for news at home alone.”

Brook pulled her into another hug. “Well, it’s good to see you. Have a happy Christmas?”

“My Christmas was fine, but what we really want to know is what happened to you.

Before he could answer, Mrs Weasley asked, “Brook, what happened to your jumper? It’s torn and filthy. And is that blood?” she added, worriedly.

Brook sighed and turned toward the room, raising his voice to address everyone. “I am really sorry, but I am too tired to tell the story again. Just suffice it to say that I was kidnapped with a Portkey and was in a duel before Dumbledore and Remus came to rescue me. I only had some minor injuries and Madam Pomfrey took care of them. She gave me a sleeping draught before I left, so I doubt I could finish telling the story before I conk out anyway. I will tell all of you tomorrow the whole story, I promise.” As he finished, he yawned, showing that the draught was indeed starting to take effect.

Mrs Weasley came to his side and said, “Of course, dear. Everyone, leave him be,” she added as she turned to her family with a glare. Her tone softened as she said, “Take off your jumper, Brook, and I’ll have it mended and washed for you in the morning. Off to bed with you.”

Reluctantly, the family let Brook climb the stairs to Ron’s room and the two boys prepared for bed. “You can tell me what happened, mate, can’t you?” asked Ron as they climbed into bed.

“Ron, I will tell you everything, but I would really prefer to tell you and Hermione together and I will do that first thing in the morning. I can barely keep my eyes open. The draught is starting to take effect.”

“Come on, Brook. You can’t even tell me one thing?” As he waited for a response, Ron heard the gentle snoring of his roommate. “Okay, I guess I can wait,” he muttered and rolled over himself.

A/N: Many of the lines in the cemetery scene were direct quotes from Chapter 32 of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. And the prophecy is a direct quote from Chapter 37 of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. But you probably didn’t need me to tell you that, did you?

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Chapter 23: Coming Clean

Author's Notes: Thanks again to my beta, Arnel, who this time spared the readers from having to read overly repetitious explanations.


Coming Clean

The next morning after breakfast Brook, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron walked out to the Weasley’s paddock to talk privately as they strolled around the Quidditch pitch. Ginny could tell that Brook was stalling, so she nudged him, whispering, “Tell them.”

“Okay,” he responded to her. He sighed and then said to Hermione and Ron, “Before I tell you about last night, I need to apologize to you; I have been lying to you since I met you.” Ron and Hermione stopped walking, their mouths gaping at this pronouncement. Before they could say anything, Brook continued. “It was necessary, but I really feel guilty about not telling you the truth, especially since we have become such good friends.”

Hermione was the first to regain her voice. “What do you mean, lying, Brook?”

“Let’s start at the beginning. As you both know, I was raised in the U.S. And it is true that I didn’t know that I was a wizard and the rest of what I am going to tell you until Dumbledore told me this past summer. But much of what I have told you about my past is not true.”

Ron interrupted as he saw a rat scampering toward him, “Scabbers, you’re back!” He picked him up and said, “What happened to your paw? Are you hurt?” The rat just looked at Ron, not seeming to be in any pain, so Ron perched the rat on his shoulder. “Sorry, mate. Keep going.”

“Like I was saying, some important facts about my life are not true. You see, I was actually born in England to two magical parents. They were involved in the Wizarding war with Voldemort and he killed them when I was still a baby. He tried to kill me too, but when he tried to kill me, both of us disappeared. Due to some magical protection from my mother, I was transported to my nearest relative, a cousin in America, who was the mother who adopted and raised me.”

Ron looked confused, but Brook and Ginny could see Hermione’s brain trying to process this information. Harry was reminded of the same look on Ginny’s face a few months earlier. He waited, allowing Hermione to figure it out on her own. After a few seconds, a look of understanding came across her face. “Wait, that would make you a Potter, the Family-that-Died-So-We-Could-Live!” She paused a moment while she thought a moment before whispering, “You’re Harry Potter?”

“Right in one, Hermione,” Brook said with a smile on his face.

“My best mate is Harry bloody Potter?” asked the astonished Ron.

“Language, Ronald,” scolded Hermione.

“I’m sorry, but this is a little bit a shock. I never would have guessed you were a Potter; you don’t look anything like your parents,” said Ron.

“There is a reason for that. Dumbledore didn’t want anyone to know who I really was, especially Death Eaters, so he charmed my ring to change my appearance.” Brook took off his ring, revealing his true appearance.

Ron gasped, but Hermione’s reaction was even stronger. “It’s you! Oh, Brook! I didn’t know! I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you!” as she grabbed him into a hug in tears. With great heaves of sobbing, she held on to him as if she would never let go, repeating under her breath, “I should have known; I should’ve figured it out. That’s where you were yesterday. I should have told you. It’s all my fault!”

Harry was initially shocked and tried to comfort Hermione. He looked over to Ginny and Ron with a questioning glance and they both shrugged. As Harry patted Hermione’s back, he whispered into her ear, “It’s okay, Hermione. It’s alright.” Ron came over and was trying to comfort her as well.

After a few minutes, she drew herself under control. “Sorry about that; seeing your true face was just a big shock,” she said quietly.

“What did you mean by it was your fault? What was your fault?” asked Ron.

Hermione sniffed and said, “I should’ve been able to put the clues together. It all makes sense now.”

“What clues, Hermione?” asked Harry.

“Well, Ginny’s story about having dreams about you her whole life, for instance. I knew she had been having dreams while she was growing up, but she had always told me that they were about what would have happened if Harry Potter had survived and never mentioned dreams about another boy. She tried to cover it up, but I thought something was a little fishy.” Ginny blushed under Hermione’s stern gaze.

“And it made no sense that you, a Muggleborn from America, would have a connection with Voldemort, seeing through his eyes. Then, there was the time at dinner last month. Ginny almost slipped up and called you Harry, didn’t she? Your name isn’t really Holbrook, is it?”

Harry chuckled. “Actually, it is, but, yes, I was trying to cover up what she almost said.”

“And one time I overheard Ginny comforting Brook and you mentioned wishing that you had a picture of your mother, like the one in the trophy room of your dad, which really confused me. I figured that I must have misheard you.” She thought for a moment. “Let’s see, James Potter and Lily Evans were Head Boy and Girl in 1977 and 1978, if my memory is correct, and James played on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, right. I’ve seen the picture with him in it. That makes sense now.”

“You seem to know more about me than I do, Hermione.”

“It’s all in Hogwarts: A History,” she said in a nonchalant tone. “Why wouldn’t I know it? One more thing. As I’ve been researching Soul Bonds, a fact that confused me was that every case has always had at least some pureblood heritage, so it didn’t make sense that a Muggleborn, like you supposedly were, could be part of a Soul Bond. So, with all of these clues, I really should have been able to figure this out and yesterday never would have happened. It really is my fault.”

“Hermione, I still don’t understand. How could you have prevented what happened?” asked Ron. Ginny and Harry nodded in agreement.

“Brook, or Harry, why don’t you tell us what happened yesterday and then I will explain.”

Harry shrugged. “That was going to be the next thing I described,” said Harry. “You see, yesterday when I disappeared, I was kidnapped by Voldemort.” Ron gasped upon hearing the name of Voldemort. “Somehow he learned my secret and used a Portkey to transport me to a graveyard where his father was buried. His assistant then brewed the potion from that vision of Snape that needed my blood to return to his old body. We then duelled, but he Disapparated when Dumbledore and Remus arrived to rescue me.”

Ron said, “You duelled You-Know-Who… and survived? Wicked!”

“Believe me, it didn’t feel ‘wicked’ at the time,” said Harry. “I was sure I was going to die,” he added quietly.

“And, Ron, you have to stop being afraid to say his name, or even hear his name,” said Ginny, her hands on her hips. “His name is Voldemort, or maybe better, Tom Riddle, since that is his real name, not some dreamed up title to make him seem like he is no longer human.”

Harry put his arm around Ginny. “I couldn’t agree more. Anyway, Hermione, what does that have to do with your reaction to my revelation?” asked Harry.

“A few days ago, I guess I had another vision, but I thought it was just a nightmare I had while I dozed off. I saw you, as Harry, pinned to a headstone in a cemetery, struggling to get free. Then, I saw a pudgy, short, evil looking man working on a potion, extracting dust made from bone from a grave, his hand that he just cut off, and then he stabbed your arm to get your blood.”

She let out a little sob as Ron pulled her into a hug. After a few seconds, she sniffed and continued. “I then saw the man drop what looked like a deformed baby into the cauldron and a few moments later out came something. I hesitate to call it a man, but I guess that is the best description I can come up with. He was thin with long arms and legs and fingers like spider legs. But it was his face that was scariest. The head was egg-shaped, but thinner and completely bald. The skin was ashy grey, almost white. He had eyes that glowed red and, instead of a nose, he had slits, like a snake’s snout. As he floated to the ground, his head leaned back and he let out this chilling laugh as he stretched out his arms. It was then that the vision ended.

“That was Voldemort, wasn’t it?” she asked Harry, who nodded, too stunned by this revelation to say anything. “I actually saw his resurrection.” She covered her face with her hands and began to cry again. As Ron put his arm around her again, she looked up at Harry and asked, “How did you survive that? I’ve hardly been able to sleep since it happened because I keep seeing it in nightmares. It was horrible. Are your really okay, Brook? How is your arm where you were cut?”

“I am still a little shell shocked, but my physical injuries are all healed thanks to Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said, rolling up his sleeve to show her. “You saw it exactly as it happened, Hermione. As a matter of fact, I think you described it better than I could.”

“I am so sorry; I should have told you, should have done something to prevent it,” said Hermione between sobs.

“Hermione, how could you know? You saw this person, whom you didn’t know, captured and being tortured. How would you know that it would actually happen and to me?”

“I don’t know; I just feel like I should have figured it out.”

“There is nothing you could have done, Hermione.” Harry patted her on the shoulder. “It’s okay; I’m fine.”

They continued to walk around the periphery of the pitch. Scabbers shivered, jumped off of Ron’s shoulder, and ran inside, but with a limp. Hermione had recovered and looked up with a teary smile and said, “That’s two visions about you, Brook, that have come true. I’ll be sure to tell you if I have any others.”

“Yeah, Hermione, you’re turning into another Professor Trelawney,” teased Ron. “Perhaps you should take Divination again when we return to school.”

Hermione hit Ron in the arm playfully and said, “Bite your tongue, Ronald! I will never step foot in that classroom again. She’s a fraud and you know it.”

“Well, she’s not a total fraud,” said Ginny. “She did give one prophecy, which, in part, has come true.”

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione.

Harry took another deep breath. “Before I was born, Professor Trelawney gave a prophecy concerning Voldemort and an unborn child. He interpreted the prophecy as referring to me, which is why he killed my birth parents and tried to kill me,” explained Harry.

“What did the prophecy say?” asked Hermione.

Harry pulled a parchment out of his pocket. “I have it written down right here,” he said. “It’s alright if you read it,” he added, handing the paper to Hermione. She grabbed it eagerly and with Ron peering over her shoulder, she quickly read what Harry had written. When she finished, she silently handed the parchment back, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“Brook, oh, Harry,” she sobbed, and threw her arms around him. After a moment, Ginny cleared her throat and Hermione quickly stepped back, sniffing loudly. Ron put his arm around her shoulders.

“How? What?” he asked Harry.

Harry absently scuffed the toe of his trainers in the dead grass of the paddock as he tried to avoid their concerned expressions. Finally, he said, “You see, I was born at the end of July and the Potters fought Voldemort three times, so he figured that it must be me. He tried to kill me since he thought I was the one with the power to defeat him. Dumbledore thinks that my scar is how he marked me as his equal. This past summer, Voldemort had sent a Death Eater to find any wizards that matched my description, trying to find me so he could get my blood. That’s how Dumbledore found me; he had sent someone to follow this Death Eater and she stumbled across me and recognized me immediately.”

“What is the ‘power the Dark Lord knows not’?” asked Hermione.

“Dumbledore isn’t sure, but he thinks it relates to love in some way. Voldemort has never been capable of loving anyone, so it makes sense. That is one of the reasons Dumbledore wanted me to tell you about my secret. He was hoping you two could help us discover what this power is.” He paused and looked down at the ground and gulped. “That is, if you still want to be associated with me,” he added quietly.

“What do you mean, if we still want to be associated with you?” asked Ron.

Harry paused again. “Dumbledore thought you should know about my secret because, now that Voldemort knows it, anyone around me might be in danger. I certainly understand if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore. After all, I have been lying to you for months, and now, being my friends will put you in Voldemort’s cross hairs. I am going to tell the rest of Ron and Ginny’s family when we’re done so they can distance themselves as well. I want to thank you for all your friendship and support. I am not sure if I am even going to return to school.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Are you daft, Harry? We’re your friends and we’re not going to abandon you now when you need us the most!” said Ron.

At the same time, Hermione grabbed Harry into another, less vigorous hug. “I feel the same. You’re stuck with us,” she whispered into his ear. Harry’s eyes were a little moist, and Ginny, who was looking on, had tears of happiness as well.

After releasing himself from Hermione, Harry said, “I was hoping you two would say that. I know we could use your help in researching this power, especially since it might be related to the Soul Bond that Ginny and I have that you found, Hermione.”

“We’d be happy to help,” Hermione responded. She then turned to her best friend. “You’ve been pretty quiet through all this, Ginny. You’ve known for quite a while, haven’t you?

“Yes, Harry told me in November and I’ve kept it a secret since then. Dumbledore wanted as few people to know as possible,” said Ginny.

They stood there a few moments while all they had learned sank in. Harry put his ring back on before anyone in the Burrow could see him, returning his appearance to Brook. “That’s going to take some getting used to, mate,” said Ron.

“I plan to stay in my Brook persona most of the time still; there is no need for the world to know that Harry Potter is actually alive.”

“So, when do we get started on this research?” Hermione asked, with the gleam of excitement in her eyes she always had when there was a problem to investigate.

“Oh, I think it can wait until we return to school,” chuckled Brook.

“We’ll be happy to help, Brook,” said Hermione.

“Yeah, we’re with you to the end, mate,” said Ron.

“I really appreciate your friendship and your help, you two,” said Brook as he pulled them into a three-way hug, his eyes getting a little moist again. “You don’t know what this means to me after all I’ve been through.”

After coming inside, Mr Weasley called a family meeting so that Brook could tell everyone who gathered around the kitchen table what had happened the night before. Ginny sat next to Brook, sitting so close to him that their elbows touched. The contact encouraged Brook as he cleared his throat and began his story. “I know that you are all curious about what occurred last night, and I appreciate you giving me the time to rest and recover a little without badgering me for the details. Before I talk about last night, I want to give you some of my background that I have been hiding from you.”

The Weasley family members seated around him exchanged expressions of surprise at this, but said nothing, allowing Brook to continue. He told the assembled group what he’d told Ron and Hermione about his birth family a half hour before. He finished his recital, saying, “Dumbledore decided to keep my true identity a secret as my family is quite famous here and he feared reprisals from Death Eaters. You see, my real name is Harry Potter.” He took off his ring.

Gasps escaped around the room, followed by murmuring between various Weasley family members. “Ginny dear, did you know this?” asked Mrs Weasley as she put a hand on her daughter’s arm.

Ginny nodded. “I didn’t know at first, but shortly after we started dating he told me. We’ve been keeping it our little secret for about two months now. Harry told Ron and Hermione earlier.”

“Brook, or I guess I should call you Harry, how hard this must have been on you, losing your parents, and then learning all of this, and then being thrown into this strange world,” said Mrs Weasley as she put her arm around Harry and hugged him.

“It has been difficult at times, but Ginny, Ron, and Hermione have helped me immensely. Ginny especially, since I was able to talk about all of my problems with her.”

Bill looked at Charlie and said, “This explains a lot.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Harry, a befuddled look on his face.

“Well, Charlie and I were talking just the other night before we went to sleep that we were surprised at how hard Ginny had fallen for Brook. Yes, she can have a temper, but normally she is pretty level headed, especially about boys. The reason we made such a big deal about Ginny bringing you home for Christmas is that she’s never even told any of us about boys she’s dated. We always found out about it well after the fact from Ron or the twins.”

Beside him, Ginny seemed to shrink a little from embarrassment.

Bill continued, “But from a young age she has been fascinated with Harry Potter. I remember that, starting about two or three years of age, it was not uncommon for Charlie and me to read her a bedtime story, and her favourite one was The Family that Died So We Could Live. After we read it, she would say that she was going to marry you, Harry. Well, actually she would say, ‘I wuv Hawwy Potta. I mawwy him.’”

Ginny turned a very bright shade of Weasley red as Harry grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. A chuckling Charlie finished the story. “We would try to convince her that she couldn’t marry him because he wasn’t alive, but she was very adamant about it, and eventually we just gave up; even at three she was stubborn. This kept up until she was about six or seven when she started reading her own bedtime stories. So, Harry, this explains a lot, because she’s been in love with you most of her life.”

Harry and Ginny smiled at each other and Harry squeezed her hand again before going on. “Anyway, last night I was kidnapped by Voldemort and an assistant via a Portkey.” A few members of the family gasped at the name of the Dark Lord being said.

“Kidnapped by You-Know-Who?” asked Fred. “And you’re still here to talk about it?”

“Barely. He and his lackey then used my blood to give Voldemort his old body back, the one that had been destroyed when he tried to kill me as a baby. We then duelled and I was rescued by Dumbledore and Remus, but Voldemort and his assistant escaped. Afterwards, Professor Dumbledore told us about a prophecy from before I was born that said that I was the only one with the power to defeat Voldemort, a ‘power that he knows not.’

“Professor Dumbledore suggested that I tell all of you about my true identity because it is likely that Voldemort may make another attempt on my life, and he wanted you to be protected.” He turned his head down, staring at the table. “I understand that I am putting your family at risk, so I am willing to go back to Hogwarts for the rest of the holiday if you would like.”

Mrs Weasley rose out of her chair quickly and pulled Harry into a hug. She then pulled back, her hands on Harry’s arms. “You will not go back to Hogwarts,” she said, “unless that is what you really want. We feel like you are a part of our family already, and in this time you should be surrounded by people who care for you.”

“Yes, Harry, we are willing to accept any risks with having you here,” added Mr Weasley. He turned and said, “Bill, can you work on strengthening the wards around the Burrow to help keep Harry here safe?”

“I’d be happy to,” answered Bill.

“Are you sure that is wise, Father, keeping him here and putting us all in danger?” asked Percy.

Arthur stood and looked down at Percy. “Yes, I am sure,” said Mr Weasley sternly. “Harry needs all the friends he can get if Voldemort is coming after him, and we will stay on his side. End of discussion.” Ginny looked at her parents with tears in her eyes, appreciating the stand they were taking for her boyfriend.

Mr Weasley turned back to Harry and asked, “What else can we do to help you?”

A huge smile on his face, Harry responded. “You have already done so much in opening up your home and your hearts to me. What else could I ask? Of course, it goes without saying that all this needs to be kept a secret, but I know I can trust you. In the meantime, I am going to leave my ring on, so that if anyone comes by, they will find Brook instead of Harry. Ginny has been calling me by who I look like at the time; that seems to work pretty well.”

Bill and Charlie went outside to work on the wards and Fred and George left for their shop. “We’re having a big Boxing Day sale today, so hopefully we’ll be busy,” said George before they left via the Floo. Ron and Hermione rose to go work on homework.

Mrs Weasley was getting up to work on lunch and Mr Weasley said he was going to work on something in his shed, when Ginny said, “Mum, Dad, can you stay for a few more minutes. We have something else to tell you.”

The two elder Weasleys looked at Ginny and then at each other with a questioning look on their faces before sitting down. “What else do you have to tell us, Firefly?” asked her dad. “You’ve already sprung quite a bit on us today.”

“I know, Dad, but we think you need to know one more thing. Bill sort of alluded to it when he talked about my wish to marry Harry when I was little.” She paused before continuing. “You see, I’ve been dreaming about Harry all my life, or at least as long as I remember. I’ve seen him grow up and doing strange things that I’ve just come to realize were his life as a Muggle. And he’s been dreaming of me, too.”

“Yes,” added Harry, as he took up the explanation. “I’ve been dreaming of a cute little redheaded girl from an early age as well. I would see her playing with dolls, helping her mother in the kitchen, doing chores around the house. This house, now that I see it in person. My parents initially thought I had an imaginary friend when I would talk about her, but then when I was older I was able to tell them I had dreamed about her. They teased me that I was dreaming about my future wife.

“The other strange thing was that whenever I dreamt about her, I would wake with this peace, a happiness that would last through the day. My parents could always tell when I had dreamed about her because my mood was so different.

“As I grew up, so did she, and I saw her sitting in class, wandering around what I thought was a museum, but now I realize it was Hogwarts, and doing amazing things, which I thought were all just a product of my vivid imagination. I still had that feeling whenever I would dream of her, but I started feeling empty when I didn’t dream of her. I felt like something was missing in my life. As I started dating, looking back, I can see I was subconsciously comparing every girl to the one in my dreams because I was looking for the same feeling that I received from those dreams. In my rational mind, I knew that it was crazy to compare a real person to a figment of my imagination, but I couldn’t help myself.”

He squeezed Ginny’s hand, looking at her with obvious adoration. He then turned back to her parents. “Now, imagine that if all this was happening to you. How would you react if, out of the blue, you saw this girl you had been dreaming about all your life? Mrs Weasley, do you remember how I reacted when you introduced me to Ginny at King’s Cross?”

Molly smirked. “You did look a little tongue-tied; I just thought you were taken by my daughter’s beauty.”

“Well, I was, because she was even more beautiful in person than in my dreams.” He glanced over at her and squeezed her hand as she blushed a little. “But mainly it was shock at seeing this woman who had been in my dreams so often.”

“Harry and Ginny, what do these dreams have to do with what you have to tell us?” asked Arthur. “Certainly, it is rare, but is it really necessary for us to know about your dreams?”

“It will make sense in a few minutes, Dad,” Ginny said, “Then, when he saved my life on the platform during the Death Eater attack, another odd thing happened.”

“What?!” exclaimed Molly as she leaned forward. “You didn’t tell us that you were involved in that attack. What happened? Were you hurt?”

Ginny chuckled. “I was fine, Mum. Just after I showed Brook how to get on to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, the Death Eaters Apparated there and the battle started.”

“She was amazing, firing hexes and spells,” interjected Harry. “I think she took out three or four Death Eaters herself. I just froze and was just hiding behind her trunk. I was petrified.”

“Not literally,” Ginny added, “just scared, and of course, you were scared,” patting him on the arm. “You had never been in a duel, even a mock one. But you acted when you had to.” She looked back to her parents. “While I was fighting, one of the Death Eaters snuck around behind me and Brook saw him starting to fire a spell at me. He dove and tackled me out of the way and we ended up in an alcove. I was dazed by the sudden motion and couldn’t do anything for a few moments. That was when Brook cast the strongest shield I have ever seen. It was hit by dozens of spells and it never weakened. I think I started falling for him at that moment.”

He nudged her with his elbow and kissed her on the forehead. Arthur and Molly watched the interplay between the two of them with interest. “What shield spell did you use?” asked Arthur.

Protego. I was a little surprised because it had never been that strong when I was learning it. I thought that maybe my adrenaline had made it stronger than usual.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. “Protego can’t last that long and isn’t that strong. How did you do it?” asked Arthur.

“Again, that will become clear in a moment. Ginny and I sat together on the train and started to get to know each other. Luna and Neville came in and I learned that Ginny was going out with Dean. I was extremely disappointed, but accepted that maybe I could just be friends with her. But as time went on, I discovered that I couldn’t stay away. I’m a little ashamed to admit that I was like a moth attracted to flame; I was totally enamoured of her, but couldn’t do anything about it. Anyway, in October, we went to Hogsmeade with Luna who left us alone for the afternoon. After several hours talking, I gave into my wishes and kissed her and instantly felt guilty because of Dean. After a few days of avoiding her, we talked and I discovered that she had broken up with Dean and that we could be a couple.

“That is when we started going together and when the other strange things occurred. We learned that when we are physically touching, our magic is much stronger. That is why my Protego was so strong on the platform; I had my arm around her supporting her when I cast the shield. If either of us cast Expelliarmus, the spell throws the other person across the room. If we use something more powerful like Reducto or Diffindo, it can be really destructive. Here let’s demonstrate.” Harry grabbed Ginny’s hand as they stood, and he said, “Protego.” An almost opaque shield appeared. “Finite Incantatem,” said Harry, cancelling the spell.

“The other odd thing that occurs when we are together is that we glow,” continued Ginny. Harry took out his wand and dimmed the lights in the room. She held Harry’s hand and a warm glow emanated from them. Molly gasped, gripping Arthur’s forearm. “And watch what happens when we kiss.” As they kissed, the glow became brighter. Ginny then waved her wand and the lights brightened again. “And if we … well, er …” Ginny turned bright red.

Harry spoke quietly at this point. “The more passionate our kissing, the brighter the glow. We’ve had to demonstrate before Ron and Hermione, but we’d rather you just take our word for it.”

“That’s quite alright, Harry,” chuckled Arthur. “Have you talked to Professor Dumbledore about this? Does he have an explanation for all these strange occurrences?”

“Actually, it was Hermione who discovered it. You see, we are . . .”

“Soul Bound,” interrupted Molly, breathlessly. “It’s like in the Sorceress’ Romance books I read . . . er, used to read.” She turned a little red, but then continued. “But I thought that was a fable, a figment of the writers’ imaginations.”

“It is real, just very rare,” said Harry. “It explains everything, the dreams, our attraction to each other, the increase in magic when we are in contact, the glowing.”

“Are you displaying any other manifestations of the Soul Bond?” asked Molly.

“We’ve learned that we can sense each other’s emotions,” answered Harry. “Ginny’s better at it than I am, but we’re both learning. Then last night, when I was being tortured by Voldemort, I cried out mentally for Ginny and she heard me. That’s how she knew where I was. It was the first time that has happened, though. Hermione is going to help us learn more about this. And Dumbledore thinks that the Soul Bond may be the ‘power that the Dark Lord knows not’ from the prophecy. It may be the key to defeating him. ”

The elder Weasleys were deep in thought, considering what they had just learned. After a few minutes, Mr Weasley said, “Harry and Ginny, thanks for telling us this. I think it will take some time for it to sink in, to figure out what this all means.”

“We certainly understand,” said Harry. “We’ve known this for a little over a month and we’re still coming to grips with it.” Harry leaned forward, holding tightly on to Ginny’s hands as he addressed her parents. “There is one more thing that I want you to understand, Mr and Mrs Weasley. I know this is going to sound like a typical teen age crush, especially since we have only known each other a few months, but I love your daughter more than you can know. This Soul Bond means that we were destined to be together, and I plan to do everything in my power to make her happy for the rest of her life.”

Molly arose and came over to them, pulling them into a huge hug. “I can’t believe this is happening to my baby,” she blubbered.

Arthur stood and patted Harry on the shoulder. “Harry, we respect what you have told us today, and already we can see that you two have something special, with or without the Soul Bond. Be sure you treat my princess the way she deserves, and you will have our blessing.”

He then put his arms around each of them. “And, Harry and Ginny, just be careful about how bright that glow of yours gets, if you get my drift,” with a twinkle in his eye.

Harry and Ginny both turned a little red before Ginny responded, “Harry has always been a gentleman and I doubt that will change.”

“I’m sure he has been. Let’s just keep it that way,” he said with a smile on his face.

**********

Other than some occasional questions, the rest of the day was uneventful. Brook, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron played games, talked, and Brook had a kip on the sofa with his head in Ginny’s lap. After dinner, Ginny noticed Brook getting more and more quiet, seeming to pull back into a shell. After everyone else had gone to bed, Ginny and Harry sat on the sofa in their pyjamas in the sitting room, snuggling by the fire. Harry had taken off his ring as it was unlikely anyone would be coming over this late. “Harry, why are you so quiet this evening? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve just been thinking about this prophecy and I guess the burden of it is getting to me. Why me? Why am I the only one who can defeat him? And notice, it doesn’t say that I will defeat him, it only says that I can, and that only one of us can live. That means either I die, or I become a murderer. It just is too much for me right now to comprehend,” he said as he pulled Ginny to him and buried his head in her hair.

“It will be alright,” she said as she patted his back and held him. “We’ll get through this together.” She pulled back so she could look in his eyes. “Remember our dream? I think it probably concerns the two of us fighting Voldemort as a couple. You are not alone in this; we will find what ‘the power that the Dark Lord knows not’ and kick his arse.”

“But I don’t want to put you at risk. It would destroy me to see you hurt because of me.”

“And it would destroy me to see you hurt as well. Don’t you think it should be my decision what role I play in this? I love you, Harry, and I am not going to let you fight him on your own.”

His shoulders sagged and his head drooped. “Okay, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am going to have to become a murderer.”

She grabbed his chin and looked him in the eyes again. “You will not be a murderer. This is a war and soldiers that kill the enemy are not thought of as murderers, but as heroes.”

He paused a moment while he considered this. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that. It’s a little scary thinking that we are smack dab in the middle of a war.”

After a few more minutes of silence, Ginny asked, “Harry, is there something else? You look pale all of a sudden.”

He turned toward her, took her hands, and replied, “Ginny, I guess I’m just scared. How am I going to do this? Voldemort is supposedly the strongest dark wizard in decades, and I’m just a teenager who learned he was a wizard six months ago. It’s just a bit overwhelming.”

“Let me give you some advice that I received from Bill after my problems first year. He said, ‘Sparkplug, we are never given more than we can handle. I know that recovering from this seems impossible, but there must be something special about you, an inner strength you have, so that you can deal with this. I firmly believe you have what you need to conquer this.’

“I really believe that, and it helped me immensely as I was recovering. And I believe the same thing about you. You wouldn’t have been given this task unless you could handle it, and you will be given what you need to defeat Tom once and for all. Look at what you’ve already received, me,” she said, and giggling. “Seriously, our Bond gives both of us amazing powers, and we just need to learn to use it. We have also been given Hermione and Ron and Dumbledore and Remus, all of whom are going to help us figure out how to beat him.”

Harry pulled Ginny into a hug. “Thank you, Ginevra, that’s exactly what I needed to hear. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” They sat like that for a while, just holding each other, giving each other comfort and encouragement for the upcoming battle through their bond. Eventually, Harry let out a yawn and stretched, saying, “It has been a long day. I guess we should go to bed.”

They walked hand in hand up to Ginny’s room and, outside her door, Harry kissed her good night and started up the stairs, but Ginny wouldn’t let go of his hand. She opened her door and gave his arm a little tug to come inside. Harry was confused until she whispered, “Hermione’s up in Ron’s room,” raising her eyebrows and smiling with a twinkle in her eye. “Come in, I don’t want to sleep alone tonight, and I don’t think you want to either.”

Harry followed her in and closed the door. Ginny led him over to her bed and he climbed in, with Ginny laying her head on his chest. Harry held her tightly and sighed contentedly. Ginny whispered, “I wish we could sleep like this every night.”

“Someday we will,” whispered Harry too quietly for Ginny to hear before they both fell asleep.

Back to index


Chapter 24: Unmasked

Author's Notes: Sorry about the delay in posting this week, but Christmas kept both me and my beta Arnel busy. I did post four chapters last week, so one this week evens that out.

Thanks again to Arnel for all of her help.


Unmasked

Near dawn, Hermione came into Ginny’s bedroom and woke up Harry so he could return to Ron’s room before anyone else awoke. A few hours later, Ron and Brook went down to breakfast; Hermione and Ginny were already there, as were Bill and Arthur. While they were eating, an alarm sounded, surprising them all. Bill and Arthur jumped up and Bill said, “That’s the new wards I set yesterday. We better investigate.” Brook and Ron stood up to help, but Arthur stopped them.

“No, Ron and Brook, you should stay here until we know what is going on.”

As soon as they left, an owl was pecking at the window with a newspaper in its beak. “It’s The Daily Prophet.” Molly let it in, put a Knut in its pouch and took the paper from the owl. As she unfolded it, her eyes widened and her face went white as she said, “Oh, dear.”

“What is it, Mum?” asked Ron, concerned at her demeanour.

“Look at this headline. I’m afraid that your secret is out, Brook.” She placed the newspaper on the table in front of them.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,

Harry Potter Both Alive

Potter Involved in Dark Ritual to Resurrect the Dark Lord

By Rita Skeeter

On Christmas night, two of the most famous participants of the last Wizarding war reappeared after a sixteen year absence. In a cemetery in Little Hangleton, Harry Potter’s blood was used in a dark ritual to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to his body. It is unsure whether Potter, who has been masquerading as Blake Felton, an American transfer student at Hogwarts, was a willing participant in this ceremony or not, as neither of its participants was available for comment to this reporter.

The article, as it continued, was filled with inaccuracies and even suggested that Harry and Voldemort were partners in the rite. It made no mention that Harry, in fact, had been kidnapped and his blood taken against his will. Accompanying the article was a large front page picture with Brook, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. At first, Brook was talking to the others, but then the picture showed him removing his ring and changing to Harry.

“Looking on the bright side, mate,” said Ron, patting his friend on the back, “you can stop wearing that ring now.”

“I guess you’re right,” Brook said, resignedly. So he took off his ring for the last time, keeping his natural appearance permanently.

As they finished reading the article, Bill and Arthur came back, looks of confusion and frustration on their faces. “It was a bunch of reporters, trying to get on to our property, yelling about wanting to talk to Harry Potter. How could they know that Harry is here?” said Arthur.

Molly showed them the paper, “This will explain what they are doing out there.”

As Arthur read the article, his eyes widened at first, but then narrowed in suspicion. “Now we know why they are here, but it doesn’t explain how this reporter knows,” said Arthur as he pointed at the byline.

**********

Rita Skeeter was sitting in her office at The Daily Prophet, her feet up on her desk, enjoying the congratulations of her fellow reporters for her big scoop. They had learned many years ago to not bother asking how she had acquired her information, since she only would smile slyly as she said, “That’s my secret.” Most of her stories were just gossip, but occasionally she would surprise the editors with a story like the one today that was more serious. Before starting on some follow-up stories, she recalled how she had gained her latest scoop.

On the evening of Christmas day, she was in the Wizengamot council chambers observing a boring “emergency” hearing. Unfortunately, she had been the one who was on-call for this kind of story on the holiday. She had been nodding off when an aide hurriedly walked in and handed Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, a note. He paled as he read it and then suddenly lifted his gavel, rapping it on the table in front of him. “I am afraid that I must adjourn this hearing at once; another event has occurred that requires my attention.” He rapped the gavel again, stood, and left quickly amidst the confused murmuring of all those in attendance.

Rita thought, This might be important, and tried to follow Dumbledore, but by the time she had left the chamber, he was gone. Where could he have gone in such a hurry? she thought for a moment and then it came to her. I don’t know where he is going, but he is likely to come back to his office at Hogwarts when he is done. She left the Ministry building and Apparated to Hogsmeade.

She then slipped into a dark alley and transformed into her Animagus form, a green beetle. She flew the short distance to Hogwarts, slipping through the wards with no difficulty. She then flew through the corridors of the school until she came to the gargoyle outside Dumbledore’s office and waited.

A few hours later, Dumbledore arrived with a rumpled man in his thirties and two teens, presumably students. She recognized the girl as a Weasley, as their red hair was famous in the British Wizarding world. After Dumbledore gave the password, they all went up to his office, including Rita in her beetle form. She was astounded with what she heard, at one point flapping her wings in excitement. Unfortunately, Dumbledore must have heard her, for at that point he took out his wand, searching for the source of the noise; she made it out of the office without being caught, but only just.

She spent the whole night working on the story. In in the early morning hours, she realized how fanciful it sounded, and, if anyone was going to believe it and if she wanted it on the front page, she was going to need more evidence, such as a photo to go with the story.

She contacted the photographer who normally worked with her and they went to the Weasleys, where she had deduced Harry Potter would be found since he and the Weasley girl had seemed so friendly. They couldn’t get past the wards to the Burrow, so they hid in the woods surrounding the borders of the property.

As they shivered in the cold, she couldn’t believe her good luck when she saw the Weasley girl, walking with some friends and approaching their hiding spot. She was a little surprised to not see Potter, but she had the photographer start shooting pictures just in case. A few moments later, she was astounded when one of the boys took off his ring, revealing himself as Potter. That explains all the talk about a ring that I didn’t understand last night, she thought.

“Did you get it? Did you get it?” she whispered as she tugged on the sleeve of the photographer’s cloak, hopping on her toes in excitement. He nodded and held a finger to his mouth, signalling that she needed to quiet down or they would be discovered. He kept taking pictures, not knowing what they would need, until the four teens went inside.

They then Apparated to Little Hangleton, found the desecrated grave and the large cauldron, and took some more pictures for the story. She then returned to her office at The Daily Prophet, researching the boy who was disguised as Harry Potter. She talked to a second-year student at Hogwarts who was a friend of the family, and determined that he must be Blake Felton, an American transfer student; this was confirmed when she showed one of the early pictures to the student and she identified him as the Gryffindor Seeker.

Her attention returned to the follow-up article in front of her. I need to make some Floo calls to America to research this Felton character more thoroughly, but I guess they will have to wait for a few hours since it is still the middle of the night there.

**********

Back at the Burrow, the next few days could only be described as chaotic. The reporters were constantly trying to get past the wards and were setting off alarms day and night, resulting in many interruptions. Bill had been able to silence the alarms in all the rooms except the sitting room so that their sleep was not disturbed, but the frequent warnings were getting on everyone’s nerves.

Each day there was a new article by Rita Skeeter, which were almost funny in their misinformation and speculation. It turned out that there was indeed a recent graduate of the Salem Institute actually named Blake Felton who lived in Massachusetts, and his life was being dissected by the malicious reporter. There were many interviews of his friends, teachers, and acquaintances all stating that they had no idea that he was masquerading as Harry Potter. Despite denials of his family that he was not adopted (birth certificates can be forged, after all), his life was thrown into turmoil.

There was one especially ridiculous article published two days after the first bombshell.

Harry Potter Playing the Field

Breaking Hearts on Both Sides of the Atlantic

By Rita Skeeter

This reporter has learned that deception is nothing new to Harry Potter. Potter, the teen who has been deceiving us by disguising himself as Yank Blake Felton, apparently has a history of dishonesty, using his ability to lie easily to get witches into his bed.

“He told me he loved me!” one young American witch, who wished to remain anonymous, told me. “He even gave me a ring that he said was a family heirloom. But after I made love to him, he never talked to me again, and the ring turned back to a plastic toy the next morning as the transfiguration charm wore off,” she said with tears streaming down her cheeks. This was only one of several similar stories I have uncovered.

Potter has continued his womanizing ways at Hogwarts. He has been linked with at least five witches at the school, one of whom is barely thirteen years old! Pansy Parkinson, a seventh year student in Slytherin reports that Felton, a Gryffindor, has conquests across all houses. “He even tried to seduce me, even though everyone knows I am betrothed to Draco Malfoy. I’ve seen him with Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw, and, I’m sure there are victims amongst the Hufflepuffs, since they are the most trusting house.”

Perhaps the witch most victimized by Potter is Virginia Weasley. His relationship with her is the most public of his trysts, but, as the accompanying picture shows, it is obvious that he has decided to leave her and move on to Henrietta Granger. What makes this so reprehensible is that Granger had been the girlfriend of Don Weasley, Potter’s supposed best friend.

“Pansy Parkinson!” laughed Ron. “I can’t imagine anyone trying to ‘seduce’ that cow! I have no idea what Malfoy sees in her.”

Ordinarily Hermione would have reproached her boyfriend for such a comment, but she was not feeling charitable about the girl due to the blatant lies she had told Skeeter. “I believe that the Malfoys and Parkinsons have arranged the betrothal of their children, so it doesn’t really matter if they like each other. I’ve always felt a little sorry for the two of them.” At Ron’s look of shock, she responded, “But only just a little,” she said with a smirk.

Later that day, a little after lunch, the two couples were in the sitting room. Ron and Ginny were playing chess while Hermione and Harry were on the sofa, their heads huddled together discussing the paintball book Harry had given Ron. Mrs Weasley walked into the room, doing a little minor cleaning, but when she saw Harry and Hermione, her eyes narrowed and she huffed under her breath before turning around and going back to the kitchen. None of the teens noticed, except Ginny.

“Ron, I’m going to the kitchen. Do you want anything?” she said as she arose.

Ron, his mind engaged in the game, barely responded, saying, “Sure, a few biscuits would be fine.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother as she left the room. As she entered the kitchen, she saw her mum hard at work, kneading dough by hand for the evening meal.

“Mum, what’s wrong?” asked Ginny.

“Whatever do you mean, dear? Nothings the matter,” replied her mum.

“Mum,” Ginny started, her tone slightly exasperated. “I know what it means when you don’t use magic to knead the dough: something is bothering you. What is it?”

“I’m fine,” she said, focusing her attention on the dough.

“Is it about this morning’s article in The Daily Prophet? I noticed that you’ve been giving Harry and Hermione a little bit of a cold shoulder all morning, and heard you huff when you saw the two of them together just now.”

Her mum stopped her work, turned toward Ginny and sighed. “You are very perceptive, dear. I just don’t want to see you hurt. I can tell how much Harry means to you.”

Ginny walked over to her mum and grabbed her hands. “Mum, Harry would never hurt me. That article is just a bunch of rubbish.”

“But, Ginny, I know that Skeeter woman couldn’t write a true story if her life depended on it, but there is always at least a little bit of truth in all of her articles. Are you sure Harry is being honest with you?”

“Harry has told me all about his past. Before he came to Britain he dated a little, but only had one serious girlfriend. Once he came to Hogwarts, yes, one girl did try to snog him, but he turned her down because he already had feelings for me. You already know about the thirteen-year-old mentioned in the article, Lydia, our reserve Seeker. Of course, the stuff about Parkinson is all fabricated.”

“But what about that picture with the article? You were crying. You can’t say that is a lie.”

Ginny took a deep breath, calming herself to avoid becoming frustrated at her mum. “That was taken after Hermione and Ron promised to stay by Harry’s side, even though they might be in danger by being associated with him. I was crying happy tears because my brother and his girlfriend were such good friends to Harry. That’s all. There is nothing between Harry and Hermione. Believe me, I would know if there was.”

Her mum seemed to consider what Ginny had said for a moment and then pulled Ginny into a hug. “I’m so sorry, dear, for doubting Harry. I guess that gossiping reporter tricked even me. I should know better.”

“Yes, you should,” replied Ginny, “but I understand.”

Molly pulled back and patted Ginny on the arms. “I guess I owe Harry and Hermione an apology,” she said as she started to walk into the sitting room.

Ginny stopped her. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Mum. I don’t even know if they noticed.”

Molly thought for a moment and then turned back to her dough. “Well, the least I can do to make it up to them is to make a treacle tart for afters tonight.”

Ginny smiled and replied, “I know that Harry would enjoy that.”

**********

There were also editorials in The Daily Prophet, admonishing the Ministry for not imprisoning Harry immediately for his role in bringing Voldemort back to life. Harry received hundreds hate mail letters after these editorials were published, including dozens of Howlers. The Weasley family and Hermione had great fun helping Harry sort his mail, reading some letters out loud, making snide remarks about others and inventing creative ways to get rid of the Howlers–Fred and George were particularly useful with this last bunch of volatile mail–in general, making the task much more pleasant than it would have been if Harry had tackled the mountain of mail by himself.

One evening, everyone was seated at the kitchen table going through that day’s mail, when Ginny suddenly threw her pile of letters into the air, screaming, “Enough! This is absolutely ridiculous! We need to do something to stop everyone from shredding Harry to pieces! ”

“I understand your frustration, Ginny, but what can we do?” asked her mum.

“I don’t know, but there has to be something,” Ginny growled. She thought for a moment. “Maybe we can get Harry’s side of the story out somehow.”

“How can we do that? We certainly can’t trust The Daily Prophet to print the truth, even if they were given it on a silver platter,” said Ron.

“What about Luna’s father?” asked Hermione.

“How could he help?” asked Harry, confused.

“He publishes his own magazine, The Quibbler. It isn’t as well respected as The Daily Prophet …” said Hermione.

She was interrupted by Ron’s chortle. “That’s an understatement,” he said.

She responded by giving him a stern glance before continuing. “I wonder if he would be willing to print an exclusive interview with Harry Potter, his story in his own words.”

“That might work,” said Arthur. “Xenophilius may be a little eccentric, but he’s been a friend of mine for a long time, and he can be trusted. And he lives just a few miles away on the other side of Ottery St. Catchpole from us. It certainly couldn’t make things worse.”

After checking with Dumbledore, who approved of the plan, Arthur contacted Luna’s father. Xenophilius was elated to help a friend of Luna’s, knowing that it would also certainly help circulation of The Quibbler. The next morning, Dumbledore had arranged for a Portkey for Ginny and Harry to travel back and forth to the Lovegood’s house. Harry put his arm around Ginny, tapped the teapot Portkey with his wand, and they felt the familiar navel tugging until they landed in a heap outside of a broken gate in front of a strange-looking house. After standing up and brushing themselves off, Harry looked up at the house with a sense of astonishment; the house was unlike any he had ever seen. What did I expect? This is Luna’s home, he thought. It was a black and cylindrical; if you tilted your head and squinted just right, it looked like a giant chess rook. From the gate that was no longer on its hinges, a path wound in a zigzag pattern to the crumbling front steps. The path was surrounded by a variety of odd plants, one of which was a bush covered in small orange fruit that Harry recognized as the same as the ones that Luna wore as earrings. The steps were flanked by two trees that Harry thought looked like crab apples, but certainly the Lovegoods couldn’t have something as normal as that growing near their house.

“It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?” asked Ginny, as she squeezed Harry’s hand. “I used to come here and play with Luna when we were younger, especially in the year that Ron went away to Hogwarts for the first time.” She had sensed that he was nervous and was trying to distract him.

They climbed the stairs and Harry took a deep breath before pulling back on the eagle shaped knocker, but, before he let go, it was pulled out of his hand as the door opened, revealing Luna. “Welcome, Harry and Ginny. Harry, I am so glad you have dropped your masquerade; your Brook persona just didn’t have the right aura to fit you.” She turned and led them upstairs to a small sitting room that was cluttered with books, parchments, and small models of magical creatures that would occasionally move their heads, or make a muted noise. There was also an ancient-looking printing press in the corner that Harry thought looked like it could fall to pieces any second.

Luna said, “Please, sit down, Daddy will be down in a minute.” Harry and Ginny looked around for a place to sit, but every piece of furniture was covered in something. Luna moved over to a chair and just swept everything off the seat onto the ground and sat, so Harry and Ginny did the same to a small settee and sat together. “Have you been having a pleasant holiday?” asked Luna.

“Well, actually, I have had better breaks, especially considering the kidnapping and torture at the hand of Voldemort,” replied Harry, sarcastically. “The hounding by the press hasn’t been a barrel of monkeys, either.” Ginny squeezed his hand, giving him a look that said to settle down.

“Oh, of course, I forgot,” Luna replied. “Yes, a barrel of monkeys would be bad; I would imagine they would get pretty irritated. Maybe a barrel of billywigs. Now that might be fun.”

Harry looked at Ginny to see if she understood, but she just shrugged. They heard footsteps coming down the stairs and looked up and saw Mr Lovegood. Ginny had warned Harry that he was eccentric, like his daughter, but she didn’t do him justice. He was tall and thin, had shoulder length white hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed in quite a while; it reminded Harry of cotton candy. He was wearing mustard coloured robes with a horribly clashing kelly green cap that looked like a graduation mortar board. He greeted Ginny and Harry with a handshake, “Hello, Ginny, good to see you again. I am pleased to meet you Mr Potter. Luna had told me about a boy who was hiding behind a façade, but she didn’t reveal the truth to me until just the other day when we read The Daily Prophet.” When he spoke to them, his eyes wandered, tending to look just askew from their face. It was a little disconcerting, but, then, so was the whole house. He then plopped himself down on the floor and said, “Shall we start at the beginning? Tell me about your birth. Was it painful? Did the sudden light surprise you?”

Harry was a taken aback and not sure how to respond. “Don’t you want something to write this down?”

“Oh, no, I find writing while interviewing just gets in the way of the flow of the conversation. Don’t worry; everything will be recorded up here,” he said while tapping his temple.

“Okay,” Harry said, hesitatingly. “Well, I don’t remember anything about my birth. I could start with what I do remember about my adoptive parents. Would that be alright?”

“Whatever. Start where you wish and we can come back to that later.”

Harry then told his story; he was starting to get pretty good at it after so many retellings. Mr Lovegood would occasionally interrupt with a question that would temporarily derail the tale, but Harry, with Ginny’s help, was able to steer things back to the topic at hand. Harry was sceptical that the story in The Quibbler would be accurate, but, as Mr Weasley had said, it certainly couldn’t make things any worse. When they were done, Harry and Ginny stood up and Harry said, “Thanks for your help, Mr Lovegood. Do you know where Luna is? We’d like to say good bye to her.”

“She is probably up in her room. It’s at the top of the stairs,” as he pointed to the spiral staircase. Harry and Ginny walked up the stairs and found themselves at the entrance to Luna’s room. There was no door to knock on, so Harry rapped his knuckles on the door jamb.

At the sound, Luna looked up from the book she was reading and said, “Come in.” As they walked in, they saw a room that fit Luna perfectly. It was round and was full of strange objects. On the nightstand next to her bed was a large photograph of a young Luna and a woman who looked very like her. But the feature that really caught their attention was a series of painted faces that decorated her ceiling. The faces were remarkable pictures of Neville, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. They didn’t move like the paintings at Hogwarts, but they seemed so lifelike that Harry thought he saw them breathe. There was a fifth picture, one of Brook’s face that then would change into a picture of Harry. The faces were linked by what initially appeared to be fine gold chains, but on closer inspection the chains were actually one word repeated thousands of times in golden ink: friends … friends … friends …

Luna noticed that they were looking at the portraits and said, “I guess I can update Harry’s picture so that it no longer changes into Brook.”

Harry was touched that Luna would include him in her mural, even though she had only known him for a few months. Ginny sensed his feelings and squeezed his hand. Harry went over to Luna and gave her a hug. “Thanks, Luna, you have been a real friend to me this term and your support has really meant a lot to me. And thanks for keeping my secret, too.”

“What else would I do?” asked Luna. “After all, even if I had told your secret, people rarely believe anything I say. I am known as ‘Loony” Lovegood, after all.”

This made the couple feel sad, realizing that Luna knew what people said about her behind her back. Not sure how to respond to that, Harry and Ginny said goodbye and left, using the Portkey to return to the Burrow. As they walked into the kitchen, they saw Remus sitting at the table talking with Molly. “Hi, Harry and Ginny,” said Remus. “I thought I would come over and see if you two wanted to start with Apparition training today.”

“We’d love to!” replied Ginny.

A few hours later, they both had made some good progress, but were very tired with the effort. Harry still needed to spend some time working on Occlumency, but asked Remus if they could take a break to do a little flying. Remus agreed that this might be a good idea and followed the couple out to the pitch. Ron, Charlie, and the twins noticed that they were flying and came out and they started another pick-up Quidditch game. This time it was Harry, Ginny, and Charlie against the twins and Ron. After their last match and the way that Harry and Ginny had played so well together, everyone agreed that the twins no longer needed to be split up. The game was much closer this time, but Harry and Ginny’s teamwork was more effective than the twin’s. As Remus watched the couple, he had the inkling of an idea that he would try when they were better at Apparition.

**********

A few hundred miles away, on an island in the North Sea, a storm raged, just like it seemed to do every day, causing the wind to whistle through the cracks in the walls. A gaunt man sat huddled in the corner of a room, thinking that he had thought it was impossible to become more miserable until the wind whipped through, making it even colder. He was filthy, damp, and wearing just rags, and, thus had almost no protection from the elements. As he shivered and rubbed his arms to try to keep warm, he was barely aware that there were other people in his cell until he felt someone kick him in the side.

As he looked up at his assailant, the man said, “And, ‘ere is the infamous Sirius Black, who ‘as been in the news again of late as The Daily Prophet ‘as been rehashing ‘is crimes, what with the return of ‘is lord and all. You don’t know about that, do ya?” as he kicked him again.

Sirius looked up at the Auror, who must have been doing one of those periodic inspections questioningly. My lord? he thought. What does he mean? But he was only able to articulate a grunt.

The Auror laughed and threw a rolled-up newspaper at him, hitting him in the face. “‘Ere, you can read it for yourself. Wonder ‘ow you feel about ‘arry still bein’ alive; seems your plan didn’t come out the way you thought, now, did it?”

The Auror left with the other people and slammed the door to Sirius’ cell. He crawled over to where the newspaper had landed and opened it. He struggled to read in the dim light of the cell, and his eyes bulged when he saw the headline. His eyes darted back and forth reading the story as quickly as possible, hoping against hope that it was true. He turned the folded paper over and saw the picture under the fold, and muttered, “He is alive! The spitting image of James!”

As he stared at the picture, he noticed something else, something that filled him with rage. It was then he felt the stirrings of his magical power start to return. He now had a mission to fulfil; he would have to rest and regain his strength, but he would get out of this hellhole somehow.

Back to index


Chapter 25: Fall-Out

Author's Notes: Hope everyone is having a wonderful New Year so far.

Thanks again to Arnel for her beta work. I appreciate her honesty when something I write is just not working.


Fall-Out

The next few days were big news days in the Wizarding world. First, The Quibbler printed Harry’s interview with Mr Lovegood. Harry was surprised at how accurate the story was; apparently, Mr Lovegood remembered Harry’s account better than he expected. The story caused much debate, because, while some people believed Harry’s side of the story, others couldn’t believe anything that was printed in The Quibbler. Some even thought that Harry had made up the story to protect his name. The hate mail that Harry was receiving did slow down, but didn’t totally stop.

The next day, Remus stayed for dinner after his lessons with Harry and Ginny. Mrs Weasley had also invited Remus’ fiancée, Tonks. Everyone was a little surprised when Tonks greeted Harry with a hug and said, “Wotcher, Harry. Long time, no see,” before they explained how they knew each other.

After dinner, they were all sitting in the sitting room talking, when Harry doubled over in pain, grabbing his scar. His vision blurred and suddenly he was on a hill outside a village, observing from a distance. At first, he only saw several houses up in flames, and a few almost totally destroyed. As he looked closer, he saw many wizards in black robes and masks shooting curses throughout the village. He walked down the hill, entering the village, assessing the carnage. As he walked the alleys of the small village, he noticed people of all ages lying on the ground, some burned, others missing limbs or covered in blood, and others that looked unharmed other than the glazed look in their open eyes. As he walked, he let out a cold, high laugh, enjoying what his followers had done. He heard screams and sobbing in the distance, but then the scene became unnaturally quiet for a few moments.

From the back of his mind, Harry heard a voice, exhorting him, “Build that wall, Harry. Block him out.” He felt the pain in his forehead start to diminish and felt like he was in a dream-like state of being in two places at once. He could sense part of his body lying on the floor of the Burrow, a gentle hand caressing his scar, while the rest of him was in the village, relishing the destruction that he and the other Death Eaters had wrought. As he concentrated on listening to the encouraging voice, his view of the village gradually became more cloudy and blurry. Before it totally faded, he pointed his wand skyward and cackled before shouting, “MORSMORDRE! ” He watched as the spell flew into the air like a firework and exploded, the smoke transforming into a skull. A few seconds later, a giant snake appeared out of the mouth of the skull and he let out another evil laugh. Then his view of this macabre image faded, and the next moment he was back in the Burrow, his head in Ginny’s lap as she ran her fingers through his hair. He opened his eyes and saw Ginny’s very concerned face.

“Are you alright, Harry?” she asked. “Mum brought you a bowl in case you get sick.”

Harry closed his eyes again and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his stomach. “For now, I’m okay, but keep it close by if I get worse.” He tried to sit up, but instantly became dizzy and more nauseous, so he laid his head back in Ginny’s lap.

“Take your time,” she urged. “You can stay here all night if you want,” she said with a mischievous grin.

“I may just do that,” he replied with a sigh as he snuggled closer and put his arms around her waist.

“Ahem.” Harry looked around and realized that they were not alone, but were surrounded by the rest of the Weasleys, as well as Remus and Tonks. His face heated as he sat up slowly and leaned against Ginny’s shoulder.

“Remus explained to the family about your connection with Tom while you were ‘gone,’ Harry,” said Ginny. “Did you see anything this time?”

Harry closed his eyes again, trying to recall the images he had seen. “Voldemort and his Death Eaters were attacking a Muggle village. I saw several houses destroyed.” He hesitated again. “I don’t know how many dead people, but there were too many to count.” As he recalled the mutilated bodies, he turned, grabbed the bowl and vomited.

Ginny gently rubbed his back as eventually his heaving ceased. He sat upright, took a damp flannel that Mrs Weasley offered, and wiped his mouth. “Sorry about that. The worst of these visions cause me to get sick.”

“Don't you worry about that dear," said Mrs Weasley as she Vanished the sick. "It’s late. Let’s get you into bed. Ron, help Harry up the stairs to your room.”

“I need to tell Professor Dumbledore what I saw,” said Harry.

“We’ll take care of that for you,” said Mr Weasley. “You just go to bed and get some sleep.”

“Okay,” Harry replied, resignedly. A few minutes later, Harry was in his pyjamas and in bed, Ginny kneeling by his side, giving him a chaste kiss before leaving.

“Ginny, thanks for what you were doing during my vision. I heard you encouraging me and I was eventually able to block him out.”

“I’m glad I could help. Get some sleep, Harry, and we can talk about it more in the morning.” She stood upright and walked toward the door. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Ginny. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She blew him a kiss and quietly shut the door.

**********

The front page of The Daily Prophet the next day brought two more big news stories.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,

Death Eaters Attack Village

Many Muggles Killed

Last night, the Muggle village of Slaidburn in Lancashire County was viciously attacked by You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters, perhaps signalling the beginning of another reign of terror. Aurors report that dozens of buildings were burned to the ground. Early accounts also state that at least 28 Muggles were murdered, many of them victims of the Killing Curse. The Dark Mark was also sighted when Aurors arrived. Obliviators were reported to be working through the night, altering memories of the Muggles who survived the attack.

The attack was not the only major story on the front page of The Daily Prophet that morning, however. Next to the story on the Death Eater attack, was another headline.

Black Escapes from Azkaban

Aurors Baffled

Mass murderer Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban Wizarding Prison yesterday, bewildering authorities. When Aurors were making their evening rounds, his cell was found empty. One Ministry official, who asked to be kept anonymous, stated, “No one has any bloody idea how he did it, since it’s never been done before.” Black, a known Death Eater who killed thirteen people in 1981, also revealed the whereabouts of James and Lily Potter to You-Know-Who, a heinous act of betrayal that led to their deaths. It was also thought, until a few days ago, that the Potters’ son, Harry, died in the explosion that levelled the Potters’ cottage. However, a few days ago, that fact was proven false.

Black is to be considered extremely dangerous, and, if encountered, should not be approached. Instead, citizens are encouraged to contact the authorities immediately.

The article continued, recounting Black’s crimes in more depth. At the end of the article, the reporter questioned whether the two events were connected. “Perhaps He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named freed his most loyal follower and then celebrated by starting another reign of terror.

Over the next few days, a dark pall spread over the Wizarding world. The Daily Prophet reported that the streets of Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade were almost deserted and very few people ventured away from their homes in fear of more attacks.

These two stories had major impact on the people gathered at the Burrow, too. Harry was infuriated that the man who had betrayed his parents was free and wanted to go searching for him. Between the efforts of Ginny, Hermione, and Remus, they were able to calm him down and convince him that no good could come of that action. Remus stressed to Harry that he needed to be very careful; Sirius was a very dangerous wizard and was likely to come after him. Remus, Molly, and Arthur were quiet, remembering how the Death Eater attacks had started during the Wizarding war the last time Voldemort was on the loose. The younger wizards and witches weren’t sure what to make of all this, but felt powerless to do anything.

Remus continued the Occlumency and Apparating training with Harry and, in the case of Ginny, Apparation. They played less Quidditch, as Molly didn’t want them outside any more than was necessary, so much progress was made on both skills. Harry had told Remus that he had eventually been able to block out Voldemort the night of the attack, so Remus wanted to explore if Ginny and their bond might have been helping. First, he asked Harry to try to block Remus’ attacks alone, and then he had Harry attempt to block him while holding Ginny’s hand. They found that Harry’s Occlumency was much stronger with Ginny’s assistance. “It makes sense since all of your magic is stronger when you are in contact with her,” commented Remus. He then had Ginny leave the room, and just have Harry focus on his feelings for Ginny while he repelled Remus’ Legilimency; they found that this was almost as effective. As Harry worked on this technique, Remus was not able to break in to his mind at all, encouraging both of them.

New Year’s Eve was a solemn occasion since no one felt much like celebrating with all of the recent events. The Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione did stay awake until midnight, but, after wishing each other a happy New Year, they were all in bed within fifteen minutes.

**********

Two days later, it was time for the teens to return to Hogwarts. At King’s Cross Station, the platform was more crowded than usual, as there was a large contingent of Aurors to protect the students, and more family members saying good-bye to their children than usual, due to the uncertainty of the future. As Harry arrived on the platform, he noticed a lot of stares and whispers from various people. He wasn’t surprised by some of the reactions, but what did stun him was the cold shoulder some of the people he knew well, like the members of the DA, gave him. At first, he was a little hurt by their treatment, but, as he thought about it, he realized that they probably felt betrayed by the subterfuge and lies that he had perpetrated against them. Aware of this, when Neville opened the door to their compartment, Harry stopped Neville before he could leave.

“Neville, wait,” Harry said as he grabbed Neville’s sleeve. Seeing Neville’s obvious look of distrust, he sighed. “I just wanted to apologize to keeping my secret from you. It’s not that I didn’t trust you. Professor Dumbledore didn’t want anyone to know my true identity to keep me safe from Voldemort. I didn’t even tell Ron or Hermione until after Christmas. I really am sorry, but I understand if you are upset. I just hope we can put this behind us,” he pleaded.

“I don’t know, Pelton, or, I guess I should say, Potter. This is going to take some time to get used to.” Neville turned and closed the door to the compartment.

Harry sat back down next to Ginny, putting his head on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Harry. He’ll come around,” she said. “Neville really values trust and loyalty. Many people think he would have been better suited as a Hufflepuff than a Gryffindor. But I guarantee that he’ll eventually forgive you; it just may take some time.

The trip back to Hogwarts was a quiet one; no one felt much like playing chess or Exploding Snap. Occasionally, someone would ask a question about the holiday, but once the question was answered, the conversation lagged. At one point, Ron started squirming and pulled out Scabbers, eliciting a hiss from Crookshanks, Hermione’s cat.

“Why do you have Scabbers with you, Ron? You haven’t brought him since you received your own owl when you made prefect fifth year,” asked Luna.

“He escaped over Christmas and came back with a wounded foot, and ever since, he has been really clingy, making it difficult for me to put him down sometimes,” Ron replied. “When I was packing up, he started squeaking and quivering so much that the only thing I could do to calm him down was to agree to bring him to school with me. Ginny is officially bringing our owl Pig this term, since we share him anyway; this way I won’t get in trouble for more than one pet.”

The quiet was disturbed by the sudden noise of the compartment door sliding open, revealing Draco and his cronies. “Well, Pelton, or should I say, Potter, you’ve attempted to make yourself quite famous while we were away from school. Do you really expect us to believe that story about you battling the Dark Lord and surviving? If you really were in a duel with him you wouldn’t be here.” Crabbe and Goyle nodded in agreement and laughed along with Malfoy.

At this moment, the train started to slow. Hermione said, “This is odd; we’re not even halfway to school yet.” She and Ron arose, pushed past the three Slytherins, and went to find out what was happening, since they were Head Girl and Boy. Draco complained about them being rude and then continued to insult Harry. He pointed at Harry’s forehead and laughed again. “At least as Pelton, you didn’t have that ugly scar on your forehead. Hey, I’ve a new name for you, Potter: Scarhead!”

“Real mature, Malfoy. Are you back in primary school, with this name calling?” responded Neville, from the open compartment doorway.

“So you need your friends to fight your battles for you, eh, Scarhead? Who is going to come to your defence next, your girlfriend or Loony Lovegood, here?” Malfoy said, but it seemed as if his bravado was diminishing.

Harry was getting angrier by the second, but Ginny squeezed his hand whispered to him to keep calm. Hermione and Ron then came back, announcing to everyone that they should all get in a compartment and close the doors. Draco and his companions started to go back toward their car, but Ron stopped them. “Your compartment is at the front of the train and is too far. Guess you’ll just have to share this one with us until this is all over.” Draco started to protest, but Ron just shoved him into a seat and said, “Cool off, Malfoy. It should just be a few minutes.” Crabbe and Goyle started to move toward Ron, but Malfoy indicated with a nod that they should just sit down.

The compartment suddenly became much colder. The windows fogged up and everyone looked around to see what was going on. The lights suddenly went out and wands came out to light the small area, but for some reason Lumos did not work. The door to the compartment opened slowly, prompting everyone to be ready to attack with their wands, but they were all overcome with an abrupt sadness and dread. Before he had a chance to react, Harry felt weakened to the point that he collapsed. He realized that he must have lost consciousness as he kept seeing the scenes of the deaths of his two sets of parents playing in front of his eyes. The two scenes just kept replaying endlessly until he felt his shoulder being shaken. He heard laughter as he returned to consciousness, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle almost in tears from laughing so hard. “Look at Scarface; he sees a Dementor and he just curls up in a ball and cries, ‘No, stop! No, stop!’ What a coward!” he heard Draco saying. As he sat up, he saw the trio leaving, still laughing and making fun of Harry.

“What happened?” asked Harry, looking around the compartment.

“Here, have some chocolate; it will help,” said Hermione. “That was a Dementor. They are dark beings that are used to guard Azkaban. Apparently, they are searching for Sirius Black on the train.” After Harry had taken a few nibbles of chocolate, Hermione asked, “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah, you’re right, it does help. Where did this Dementor go?”

“Hermione chased it away with a spell that we haven’t learned yet, of course,” said Ron. “What was the spell, Hermione?”

“It was a Patronus. I was looking over the textbook for the next term over break and we are scheduled to learn this, so I practiced a little before Christmas.”

“That’s my Hermione; always ahead of the rest of us,” said Ron, putting his arm around her. “That was wicked!”

“Thanks, Ron, but I’m sure any of you could do it with a little practice.”

“That’s not what I heard,” said Neville. “The Patronus Charm may be covered in seventh year Defence, but many people are not able to do more than a mist. Yours was corporal, and that is rare, Hermione.”

“A corporal Patronus? What does that mean?” asked Harry.

Hermione went into teaching mode. “The Patronus Charm can make a mist, which helps keep the Dementors back a little, but to truly repel a Dementor, you need to make a Patronus that is in the form of an animal. Then the animal fights off the Dementor.”

“What was yours, Hermione?” asked Harry.

“An otter.”

“Did anyone else black out like me?” asked Harry.

“Just Ginny and you. Were you totally unconscious or were you aware of what was going on?” asked Ron.

“I kept seeing the death of both sets of my parents. I had no idea what was happening around me. How about you, Gin?”

Ginny, who looked more pale than normal and was also eating chocolate, said, “I was back in the Chamber and Tom was calling me a foolish little girl.” As she said this, she snuggled into Harry, who put his arm around her protectively.

“Looks like something to cover in the DA, Ron,” suggested Neville.

“That’s a good idea; we’ll talk to Professor Lupin about that at our next meeting.”

When they arrived at school and were seated at their house tables for dinner, the students learned that the Dementors would be placed at the gates of the school for their protection, so it was very important for the students to not leave the grounds. As the meal progressed, more stares and whispers were directed in Harry’s direction. The Slytherin table would periodically break out in laughter, with various people, mostly Malfoy’s friends, pointing in his direction. One time, he looked over to see Malfoy re-enacting the events on the train, holding up his arms in front of his face, and screaming in a high-pitched voice, “No, stop!” He then swooned, falling to the floor. Of course, the table erupted in raucous laughter as Malfoy arose and returned to his seat. Watching this, Harry became increasingly angry at the teasing, and Ginny again put her hand on his. Suddenly he felt a sensation of peace come over him.

His eyes widened as he looked at her. “Did you do that?” he whispered. “I felt this wave of calm hit me as you were touching my hand.”

She smiled. “I’m glad it worked. You looked like you were ready to get up and hex Malfoy, and we can’t have you receiving a detention on your first day back, can we?”

“Thanks. I don’t know what I would do without you, Ginny.”

“Neither do I, so let’s not find out,” she replied.

That night, as he was lying in bed, the images that the Dementor had caused prevented him from falling asleep. After tossing and turning a while, he gave in and sat up, pulling out some parchment and a quill. To rid his mind of the bad memories, Harry decided to write to the Roberts family and focus on the happy parts of his holiday.

January 3rd, 1998

Dear Mrs Roberts,

I hope you had a Merry Christmas with your family. I want to thank you so much for my gift. I took your advice and, as I hung the ornaments on the Weasleys’ tree, I told the significance of each one. In addition, periodically through the holiday, I would share our family traditions and contrast them with the way Christmas and New Year’s are celebrated here in England. Mr Weasley in particular was very interested in our way of doing things. One of his hobbies is learning about other cultures. While I was sceptical at first about your suggestion, it really did help. I was able to focus on the happy memories instead of dwelling on what I was missing.

Being with Ginny and her family helped also. They really took me in and treated me as one of the family. Mrs Weasley even knitted me a sweater, just like she does every year for each member of her family. You can imagine how that made me feel accepted, considering that Mom did the same thing for us.

As you wrote, yes, I am very smitten (to use your word) with Ginny. As requested, I have included a picture of the two of us. (Harry had asked Hermione to take a Muggle picture of the couple.)

Tell everyone I said hi and to wish them a Happy New Year!

Brook

**********

The next day, Defence class started the morning, much to everyone’s dismay. As they waited for Snape to arrive, they whispered back and forth, wondering if they would cover the Patronus Charm. When the door slammed open and Snape strode in, his cape flowing behind him as usual, he barked, “Silence!” He walked to the front of the class and then, as he looked out at his class, Snape’s eyes caught Harry’s. The professor’s eyes widened for a quick moment as if he was shocked, but his features quickly returned to normal. He walked over to Harry’s desk and said, “Well, if it isn’t our new celebrity, Harry Potter. I now understand why you struggle so much in this class; just like your mediocre father. He would skate by and use his attempts at charm to sweet-talk the professors. He was carried by his friends or he never would have passed any of his NEWTs.” He pointed his finger in Harry’s face and added, “I expect you to work much harder than he ever did, Potter, or I will remove you from my class!” Harry controlled his anger, since he was actually one of the better students, although Snape never acknowledged the fact.

Snape turned and walked back to the front of the class. “Today, because of our new visitors,” he said, gesturing toward the gates that could be seen in the distance through the windows, “we are going to cover the Patronus Charm. This spell can be used to fight off Dementors and Lethifolds, as well as sending messages. Most of you will probably just be able to make a mist, but some may be able to form a corporal Patronus that takes the form of an animal. The incantation is Expecto Patronum. Go ahead and try, but I don’t expect any of you to have any success, since you are such poor students on the whole.”

Everyone struggled to get more than just a mist to come out of their wands, even Hermione, who already could create a Patronus. She eventually was able to make the mist resemble an animal, but nothing like what she had done on the train. Every time Harry tried, Snape seemed to be behind him and as soon as he said the incantation, Snape would say something discouraging, like “I knew you couldn’t do it,” or “Just like your father, a weak wizard.”

As they were leaving the Defence classroom, Hermione leaned in and whispered to Harry and Ron, “He wasn’t teaching it right; he didn’t mention anything about thinking a happy thought. Ron, it looks like we are going to have to cover this in DA.” Ron nodded and the couple discussed this until they reached their next class.

**********

On the way to lunch that day, Harry noticed Lydia walking by herself in the corridor, her head down and shoulders slumped over. He caught up to her, tapped her on the shoulder, and, when she turned, asked, “So, Forest, when are you going to show me how well you fly on your new broom?”

Lydia looked up slowly, as if coming out of a fog, and stared at Harry as if she didn’t know who he was. “What?” was her hesitant answer.

Harry furrowed his brow. “Is something wrong, Lydia?”

“What business of that is yours? I don’t even know who you are,” she snapped back at him.

Harry’s mouth gaped open and then a light bulb of realization went off in his head. “Lydia, it’s me, Brook.” He reached into his rucksack, pulled out his ring, and put it on. “See?”

With obvious confusion on her face, she said, “I don’t understand.”

“You didn’t see any Wizarding news over the holiday, did you?”

“No, I’ve been a little preoccupied,” she said quietly.

“Let’s go into this classroom so we can talk,” Brook said as he pulled her into an unoccupied room. When they had sat, Brook explained what had happened on Christmas night and then how his true identity had been revealed by The Daily Prophet two days later. “That’s why I wore this ring,” he said as he took it off. “Dumbledore wanted to keep my existence a secret as long as possible.”

The gears were turning in Lydia’s head as she replied pensively. “So, you’re Harry Potter, the Harry Potter, the boy in the bedtime stories my Gran told me?”

Brook felt his face warm. “Yeah, I guess so. That fact is still hard to deal with. But I’m still just Brook, too. I’m the same person I was last term, just with a different name and face.”

“That explains why I heard the other girls in my compartment nattering on about Harry Potter on the train.”

“So, I know how your Christmas was,” said Brook. “How about the rest of the holiday? Did you have a good time with your family?”

Lydia’s eyes filled with tears as she began to cry. It was Brook’s turn to be confused. “Lydia, what’s wrong? Did something happen at home?”

“Brook, I live in Slaidburn.”

“Huh?” Then it hit him. Slaidburn was the village that was massacred by the Death Eaters! “Oh, Lydia, I’m so sorry.” He met Lydia’s gaze with tears of his own and held out his arms. She practically leapt into his lap, sobbing uncontrollably.

They sat like that for several minutes as Harry tried to comfort her. In between sobs, he was able to make out that her parents and both sets of grandparents had been killed.

Eventually, she had cried herself out. She arose from his lap and sat back down in her chair. As she noticed his clothes, she said, “I’m sorry, Brook, I’ve left a mess all over your robes.”

Harry chuckled. “You have nothing to be sorry about. My robes are always available as a handkerchief if needed.” He took out his wand and said, “Tergeo” and the remnants of Lydia’s crying disappeared. “Do you want to talk about what happened? I understand if you don’t, but know that I’m here when you need me.”

“I appreciate that, Brook, but I don’t really want to talk, or even think, about it yet. It’s still so fresh,” she sniffed.

“I understand,” he said, patting her hand. “You know that I lost my parents last summer, so, while I may not know exactly how you feel, I want to be here for you. Whatever I can do to help, just ask.”

Lydia nodded and said, “Thanks, Brook. I will take you up on that.” She looked up at the clock on the wall and stood up suddenly. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I made you miss lunch! It’s almost over.”

Harry chuckled. “That’s okay. Let’s see if Ron left us anything.” He stood up and put his arm around her. “Ready?”

She took a deep breath and stood up as straight as she could before nodding. “Yes, let’s go.”

They chatted about morning classes as they walked to the Great Hall. When they entered the room, Ginny spotted them, jumped up from her seat, and ran to Harry, giving him a hug. “Harry, are you alright?”

Harry chuckled and said, “I’m fine.” He turned to Lydia and said, “Why don’t you see if you can grab some fruit or something that you can eat on the way to your next class.”

“Okay. Thanks again for listening to me, Brook.”

“Anytime. And I mean that. Have a good afternoon.” He turned back to Ginny as Lydia walked toward the Gryffindor table. Ginny’s face showed her confusion.

“Harry, what was wrong? During lunch, I had this sense of overwhelming sadness, so much that I couldn’t even eat. What happened in class this morning?”

“Nothing happened in class.” His shoulders slumped. “I ran into Lydia on the way to lunch and asked how her holiday was. She broke down crying. Her family was killed in the massacre at Slaidburn.”

Ginny gasped. “Oh, that poor girl. How is she coping?”

“Probably as well as can be expected. Can you help me keep an eye on her? I want to help her through this as much as I can,” asked Harry.

“Of course; we’ll both help her. I’m sure a female shoulder to cry on might be helpful as well.”

“Thanks. Now, let’s see if I can grab something to eat quickly before Charms,” he said as he walked quickly to the table.

**********

The next day, Remus was checking on Harry’s Occlumency. Harry had been improving steadily, especially since he realized that if he thought about Ginny his defences were stronger. “Excellent, Harry. You are able to build an almost impenetrable wall. Next, I want you to try something else. Even the strongest walls can eventually start to crumble when they are being battered with Legilimency. It is always good to have a backup method in case your first block starts to weaken. This time, instead of picturing a wall, I want you to picture a mirror that will reflect back my attempts at entering your mind. Ready?” At Harry’s nod, he cast Legilimens, and tried to enter Harry’s mind. After a few attempts, Harry was able to successfully cause Remus’ attempts to bounce right back at him. Harry was a little shocked when he saw a glimpse of the backside of a nude Tonks getting out of bed and walking across the room before it vanished as quickly as it appeared. Remus reddened, explaining, “One difference between using a mirror from a stone wall is that is sometimes will reflect the spell back on the caster and you will be able to see what they were thinking about shortly before the spell was cast.”

“Thinking about your morning, then?” teased Harry.

Remus’ cheeks turned a little pink. “Yes, I was, but let’s not tell Tonks what you saw.”

“If you don’t tell Ginny, I won’t tell Tonks.”

“Anyway, you managed that skill just fine. What else do you want to work on today?”

“I do have an idea, but first, I have a question about my father. Professor Snape kept going on about him in class yesterday, saying he was a mediocre wizard who skated by on charm. How did Snape know my father?”

“Snape was actually in our year at Hogwarts, but he was in Slytherin, which probably doesn’t surprise you.”

Harry shook his head. Remus continued. “When we first came to school, he was actually good friends with your mother, but we couldn’t stand him, starting from our first train ride. James and Sirius were not very nice, making fun of his clothes, and his hair, and calling him ‘Snivellus’ instead of Severus. They actually bullied him quite a bit.”

Harry’s eyes bulged a little. Remus noticed and reassured, “I told you that your dad was immature, so don’t be so astonished. He grew up eventually.”

“Things became even worse when James started trying to convince your mum to go out with him and Snape tried to convince her not to,” said Remus. “One time, after we had taken one of our OWLs, James performed Levicorpus on Snape in front of many of the students in our year, turning him upside down and allowing his robes to fall and exposing his underwear. Your mother came to his defence, but Snape was so angry he called her a Mudblood and stormed off. Lily and Severus never were friends again after that. So, I am not surprised that Snape would say bad things about your father, although class is not the appropriate time.”

Harry absorbed that information for a few seconds. “That explains a lot; at times I felt like he truly hated me. I guess it doesn’t help that I look just like my dad.”

“Back to our lesson. How about working on the Patronus Charm?” asked Harry. Embarrassed, he added, “I know we’re going to work on it at tonight’s DA meeting, but I had a … let’s say, a strong reaction to the Dementors on the train, and I don’t want to make a fool of myself again.” His face felt like it was on fire as he recalled the trip back to Hogwarts.

“Yes, I heard about that. We can try, but don’t be surprised if you don’t have much success at first. It is a very challenging spell. What do you know about conjuring a Patronus?”

“I know the incantation, Expecto Patronum. Hermione also mentioned that you need to think a happy thought to make it work. Like what?”

“Let’s start with thinking of a fond memory of your parents, maybe a birthday or something you did together.”

Harry thought about the fun he had learning to fly with his dad and said, “Expecto Patronum.” At first, a mist came out of his wand, but it soon started to form into a vague four-legged animal shape. After a few more attempts, Harry was starting to get frustrated.

“May I make another suggestion?” asked Remus. “How about Ginny?” With a twinkle in his eye, “Any happy memories with her? Your first kiss, perhaps?”

Harry did as recommended, remembering when he had told her his secret, and the Patronus took on a more definable shape. “Brilliant, Harry! A horse!” exclaimed Remus. The horse ran around the room, its eyes searching wildly about. It shook its head violently and Harry could imagine it snorting, if a Patronus made noises. It then rose up on its hind legs and kicked at the air before circling the room again. After a few circuits of the room, seeming not to find what it was searching for, it faded into nothingness.

“That was an excellent first effort,” said Remus, “but try again, this time attempting to control it more so we can study it more easily.”

Harry took a deep breath, focusing again on the events in the trophy room, and cast the spell once again. As the horse started to run around the room again, Harry held his arms out and said the first thing that came to his mind. “Easy, boy. Come on, settle down.” The horse Patronus whirled its head around and looked at Harry. It slowly approached Harry, pawing at the ground and tossing its head as if whinnying. “That’s it; nothing here is going to hurt you,” he said in a calming tone as he and Remus observed the beautiful creature. Harry reached out to touch the horse’s neck to pet it and give it further reassurance. He was unsure how to describe what he felt. He could sense something tangible, but it didn’t feel solid either. Regardless, the horse was further calmed by his ministrations and even nuzzled Harry’s face. During all of this, Remus was intensely studying Harry’s Patronus. He gave Harry a nod that he was done, and Harry said, “Now, boy, it’s time for you to go.” The horse nodded its head and gradually vanished.

Harry took a deep breath. “Whew, that was a little intimidating.”

Remus agreed. “I’ve never seen anything like that. Usually a Patronus is totally under the control of the caster. I wonder if the form of your Patronus is not just a simple horse.”

“What determines the form of one’s Patronus?”

“It depends. Each one is unique to the person who conjures it. Sometimes it is related to an interest. For instance, many Quidditch players have some type of flying animal. Other times it relates to an animal that represents a relationship that gives them a feeling of security or safety. But often it is random. For instance, I don’t have any explanation why Hermione’s is an otter.”

“What is your Patronus?”

“A wolf.”

“How about Tonks? Can she conjure a Patronus?”

Remus turned a bright shade of red. “Yes, she can. Originally, her form was a jack rabbit, but she informs me it has recently changed.”

Seeing his obvious discomfort, Harry pushed on. “Come on, tell me. How bad can it be?”

“Well, shortly after we started dating, her Patronus changed to a wolf as well. She used that fact to convince me to stop pushing her away and let us be a couple.” Trying to change the subject, “Back to your Patronus, any idea why yours would be a horse?”

Harry thought for a few moments. “I’ve never done much riding. I guess horses are okay, but I can’t say that I’ve ever had a strong interest in them.” He paused as he considered the question further. Then, his eyes widened and he looked up, a smile on his face. “I have it! It represents my Dad. We spent hours restoring a car, a Mustang, which is a type of horse!” He thought for a moment. “Mustangs are wild horses, so maybe that explains why it was so hard to control.”

Remus smiled. “I’ll bet you’re right. That makes a lot of sense. Now, let’s try it a few more times before we break for dinner.” Since he knew that he had to gain control immediately after he cast it, Harry was able to calm the Mustang more quickly with each attempt.

**********

January 10th, 1998

Dear Ron and Ginny,

I don’t want to worry you, but I thought we should let you know that the Burrow was ransacked over the weekend. The whole house was gone through, as if the person was trying to find something. Ron’s room, in particular, was completely destroyed; it looked like a wild animal had torn up everything. Nothing seems to be missing, however. We have no idea what they were looking for. We also have no idea how they broke through the wards, since they are still up after what we learned about Harry. Fortunately, your Mum and I were out when it happened, but, as you can imagine, your Mum was very angry. She was able to put everything to right with a few flicks of her wand, but the whole idea of some stranger being in our home is disconcerting.

Study hard and have a little fun (but not too much).

Love,

Dad

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Chapter 26: New Year, New Lessons

New Year, New Lessons

“What are you going to do, Dean?” asked Lavender. She and the rest of the seventh years had been called into a rarely-used classroom to discuss their end-of-term projects with the Hogwarts faculty. Each student was expected to pick a subject that interested them to research and test with the approval and help of at least one advising faculty member. At the end of the year, each student was expected to submit a written report and demonstrate their project to the rest of the seventh year and the faculty. At the moment, the Gryffindors were gathered in one corner of the classroom to discuss their preliminary plans.

“Since I want to be an artist, I thought I would learn about all of the charms involved in making a magical portrait that can interact with its surroundings,” Dean answered. “My final product would be a painting.” He looked around the circle. “I will need a model. Any of you witches interested in volunteering? I’ve been thinking about doing a nude study next,” he teased, waggling an eyebrow.

Lavender hit him on the arm. “I think Padma might have something to say about that. What do you think, Parvati?”

“Just kidding,” replied Dean, putting his hands up to protect himself from a hex that Parvati had on the tip of her tongue. “Actually, I was hoping that Padma would pose for me.” He quickly added, “Not in the nude, of course. That way I would have one of each of the twins. It will be a challenge to paint the subtle differences between them. What about you, Parvati?”

“Lavender and I are hoping to develop some magical make-up or hair products. We hope to open our own salon after we leave Hogwarts, and this would be a good way to develop and start marketing our wares.”

“You’re next, Hermione,” prompted Dean, as he went around the circle. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not sure yet. The Headmaster has me researching something for him, so it will probably be related to that. I just don’t know specifically what I will focus on.”

Lavender, intrigued, asked, “What does Dumbledore have you researching?”

Hermione glanced over at Harry before she answered. “He has asked me to keep it secret for now, but I’ll tell you when I can.”

Ron was next. “I’ve talked with Professor Flitwick and he is going to help me charm a broomstick from scratch. I want to design one specifically for Keepers.”

The group nodded, not surprised that Ron would pick something Quidditch related. “And you, Harry?” asked Parvati.

“I want to see if I can make a Muggle electronic device work here at Hogwarts. I am going to start on my Walkman, which is a portable music player.”

“How are you going to do that?” asked Dean. “When I arrived as a first year, I was told that many have tried to do that, but have had no success. I brought a small TV and VCR, but was disappointed that there was no way to make them work.”

Harry hesitated a little, thinking about how to explain his theory without being too technical. “Last term, Hermione and I were talking about why some spells are visible when others aren’t. We came up with an idea that the magical part of a spell had to be carried by energy, and it was this energy that disrupts Muggle electronics.”

“Harry,” said Hermione. “That is not entirely true. You thought of the idea; I just was a sounding board for you. You’re selling yourself short.”

Harry’s face warmed. “That doesn’t matter. Anyway, I am going to see if there is a way to block the energy and allow electronics to function normally.” Trying to shift the attention, he asked, “Seamus, you’re the last one. What are you going to do?”

“I haven’t a clue,” he laughed. “I’m sure it will come to me,” he said as he sat back, putting his arms behind his head and resting his legs on an empty chair. “I’ve plenty of time to come up with something.”

“Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow, huh, Seamus,” teased Dean.

“Right you are, right you are,” replied Seamus.

**********

The next day, Professor McGonagall asked Harry to stay after class. Ginny raised an eyebrow, obviously wondering why, but Harry just shrugged. “I can’t think of anything I’ve done recently that she would need to talk to me about,” he whispered to her. “I’ll catch up with you at lunch.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and she turned and left the room. Harry turned back to Professor McGonagall, who was seated at her desk, waiting patiently. As he walked toward her, she pointed at a chair beside the desk to indicate that he should sit.

“Mr Potter, since you are only in sixth year Transfiguration and you will be sitting for your NEWTs in just a few months, I thought we should start meeting regularly outside of class. While you are doing very well, especially since you are no longer staring at Miss Weasley’s posterior,” she said with a smirk, “there is still much material that we have to cover before you could successfully take NEWTs.”

Harry’s face warmed at the Professor’s teasing. Regaining control, he said, “Thank you for taking the extra time with me, Professor. What should we start with?”

“Shall we begin by discussing your seventh year project? Professor Flitwick informs me that some Transfiguration skills might be helpful for that.”

**********

The first Saturday of term, Remus took Harry and Ginny to a field outside of Hogsmeade to further work on Apparation. After about an hour of practice in which they had practiced long distance Apparation, Remus gave them one last test, asking them to Apparate to the Burrow and back. When they did this without difficulty, Remus called them together, congratulating them on their hard work.

“I want to try something different now. I’ve been watching you while you were playing Quidditch and while I was having you duel against each other and I think the two of you have something special; it’s as if you know where each other is without using any of your senses. Have you felt that?” When they nodded hesitantly, he continued. “It probably has to do with your Soul Bond. Ginny, I want you to put on this blindfold and I will place a Silencing Charm around you so you won’t be able to hear where Harry is Apparating. Harry, I want you to Apparate around the field, and Ginny I want you to try to sense where Harry is and point in his direction. As soon as she points, Harry, I want you to Apparate somewhere else. Ready? Here, Ginny,” he said as he handed her the blindfold.

After she put the blindfold on, Harry Apparated away. Ginny concentrated and then, after about fifteen seconds, pointed right at Harry. Harry continued Apparating around the field, and she correctly found him each time and each time she was able to do it quicker. Then, Remus told Harry to Apparate back to the Burrow. Ginny had to concentrate a little harder this time, but she was able to point in the direction of her home after a few seconds. They then repeated the process with Harry pointing toward Ginny and he did just as well as she did. Remus was encouraged with the results, and said, “You have both done brilliantly this morning. For the next week I want you to randomly try to locate the other, especially at times when you don’t know where the other is.”

Harry asked, “Remus, we both think this is kind of cool that we can sense where each other is, but what does this have to do with Apparation?”

“That’s a surprise. Just work on it and then next week we’ll try something new.”

**********

The next Tuesday, Remus had notified Harry that he was going to be about an hour late for their lesson, so Harry was sitting by himself in the common room as everyone else had class. He had had several nightmares the night before about the car crash that killed his adoptive parents, so his thoughts were on them. It was snowing outside and he was remembering some of the fun they had in the snow; sledding, skiing, snowball fights. He decided he needed to do something to get out of his doldrums and grabbed his broom to go out to the Quidditch pitch. Flying always made him feel better and today was no exception.

After about thirty minutes of hard flying, he landed and sat on the benches for a rest. While he was getting his breath back, he heard a noise. He turned quickly toward it, his wand out, but he didn’t see anything. He listened closer and heard the noise again, this time identifying it as a whimper or a cry.

Keeping his wand ready, he warily crept toward the sound that seemed to be coming from beneath the bleachers. As he turned the corner that allowed him to see under the seats, he saw a large black dog lying on the ground, covered in snow and shivering. Harry took a few steps closer, held out his hand, palm up, and said, “Hey, boy. Are you cold? It’s okay, take a sniff, I won’t hurt you.”

The dog raised its nose and opened its eyes slowly. Then suddenly, the dog’s eyes flew all the way open, it stood up on all fours and, before Harry could do anything, the dog had leaped on top of him. Harry pulled his one arm up to his face to protect himself from its jaws while trying to use his other to cast a spell, but his wand was thrown out of his hand by the force of the dog’s leap. After a few seconds of wrestling with the dog, the dog was able to squeeze its head past his arm and Harry braced himself for a bite, but instead felt a big wet tongue. Harry, shocked, let his guard down and the dog continued to lick him like crazy, its tail wagging so fast Harry could barely see. Harry began to giggle and between chortles he said, “Hey, settle down, that tickles,” but continued to wrestle with the dog for a few more minutes. At length, Harry was laughing so hard he was starting to have difficulty breathing, and the dog finally stopped and let him up, panting and wagging its tail.

“Aren’t you a friendly one?” Harry said smilingly as he petted the dog, rubbing all of the snow off its back. “You’re soaked; I bet you’re freezing too.” The dog seemed to understand and nodded its head. Harry Summoned his wand, and performed a drying and warming charm on the dog, which then licked him on the face again. Harry felt around his neck and said, “You don’t have a collar. Where is your owner? Do you live in Hogsmeade?” This time the dog shook his head. Harry was shocked at how well the dog seemed to understand him and wondered if there were magical dogs with different abilities than Muggle dogs. “Are you hungry, boy?” The dog nodded again. Harry checked his watch and saw that Remus was due in about twenty minutes. “How about I take you in to the castle and see if we can get you some food from the house-elves? Then we can try to figure out what to do with you.” The dog nodded and stood up, following at Harry’s heels.

They entered the castle through the front doors, and went down a staircase to the portrait of fruit that concealed the kitchen door. Harry tickled the pear on the painting, revealing a doorknob that he pulled on to gain entrance into the kitchen. The house-elves came over to see Harry, but then pulled back when they saw the large dog. “Can you make some food for this dog?” asked Harry while he petted its head. The elves saw that the dog didn’t seem to mean any harm and then scurried around, filling a bowl with some ground up meat. The dog ate hungrily, wolfing it down in just a few seconds, and then licked Harry on the face again in thanks.

Harry looked at his watch again and realized that he needed to get up to his meeting with Remus. He thanked the elves for the meat and then said to the dog, “Come on, boy. You can watch my lesson and then we’ll talk with someone about what to do with you.” He led the way up to the classroom and just as they turned the corner in the corridor, Harry saw Remus and waved hello.

Remus smiled and returned the wave, but then went white. “Padfoot?” he said looking at the dog. Harry looked down at the dog, whose eyes were wide open again. “Harry, get down!” yelled Remus. “Stupefy!” he shot at the dog, which turned and then tore away from Harry and Remus as fast it could. Harry had to duck out of the way to avoid the spell.

Harry yelled, “Remus, what are you doing?!” He looked up and saw Remus sprinting after the dog with his wand out, his face no longer shocked but filled with fury. Harry ran after Remus, who was firing spell after spell at the dog. The dog, for its part, was running in a zig zag pattern to avoid the spells. Harry yelled again, “Stop, Remus! He’s a friendly dog! Don’t hurt him!”

Harry and Remus followed the dog out the main doors and then past Hagrid’s hut until they lost it at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They pulled up, put their hands on their knees and caught their breath before Harry demanded, “What were you doing? That dog wasn’t hurting anyone!”

After a few more deep breaths, Remus answered, “You don’t understand, Harry. That was Sirius Black.”

Harry’s mouth gaped open. “What? How?”

“Let’s walk back to the castle and I’ll explain.” As they walked, Remus started. “There is something I haven’t told you about your father and his friends. You know that I am a werewolf. Well, your father, Sirius, and Peter wanted to help me on my transformation nights, so they learned to be Animagi, or someone with the ability to transform into animals. That way they could run with me in my werewolf form and prevent me from hurting anyone. You see, werewolves will only attack people and will not harm animals.”

Harry considered this information. “I thought that was very rare and difficult to learn.”

“It is,” replied Remus, “and it is remarkable that the three of them were able to teach themselves how to do it. It took a couple of years, but they all finally achieved it. It was a great comfort to me to not have to worry about what I would do to someone during my transformation.”

“If that was Sirius, why didn’t he want to harm me? All he did was play with me like I was his owner.”

Remus thought for a moment. “I don’t have an explanation. You would think that he would at least try to kidnap you again for his master, Voldemort. I will have to talk to Dumbledore about the wards around Hogwarts. I don’t think he knows about Sirius’ Animagus abilities. In his dog form, he obviously can get through the current protections easily.”

“So Sirius was a black dog. What were my dad and Peter?” asked Harry

“Your dad was a stag. Peter was a rat.”

A thought came to Harry’s mind. “Wait a second. What did you call Sirius when you first saw him?”

“Padfoot. That was the nickname we used for him in his dog form. Your dad was Prongs and Peter was Wormtail.”

“And you were Moony!”

It was Remus’ turn to be surprised. “Right,” he said cautiously. “But how did you know?”

“You four were the Marauders! And you made the map!”

“You’ve seen the map?” His face had a wistful grin. “I haven’t thought about that for years.”

“Ginny has it; her twin brothers found it in Filch’s office while they were here and handed it down to her.”

“I’ve always wondered what became of that map. Are you at least putting it to good use?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I guess it depends on what you think ‘good’ is, but, yes, Ginny and I have taken advantage of its properties a time or two. I suppose you know about the other secret tool my dad had also.”

“You have the Invisibility Cloak, too? Wow, the pranks we played with the map and that cloak.” He paused, his eyes glazed over as his mind travelled somewhere in the past.

After a few moments, Remus came back to the present and said, “Now that we know that Sirius is indeed in the area, I am going to stress to you again, be careful. You shouldn’t be outside by yourself and if you do see that dog again, Stun first and ask questions later.”

“Okay,” replied Harry. His face twisted in thought. “He was so much fun to play with; he really looked happy to see me.”

“Maybe he was reminiscing a little when he saw you. When we watched you when you were a baby, he would spend most of the time as Padfoot and roll over the floor with you. You loved being licked by him and would giggle so hard. You both loved it, and there was the added benefit that you slept really soundly afterwards,” he said with a chuckle.

“That doesn’t sound like the cold-hearted mass killer that you’ve told me about.”

Remus looked down at the ground. “I wonder if we ever truly knew the real Sirius. He was one of my best friends, and I would have died for him and I thought he would die for you and your parents. I still don’t understand how he could do what he did.”

“I guess the only way we’ll get any answers if he is caught again.”

**********

Harry, Ginny, and Ron were almost done eating dinner one night when Hermione came in, short of breath. “Whew, I didn’t know if I was going to make it in time.” She sat down next to Ron, dropping her rucksack on the bench on the other side.

“Where have you been, Hermione? I feel like I haven’t seen you all week,” said Ginny.

“If it weren’t for seeing you in class, I would be worried that you had disappeared,” agreed Harry.

“Yeah, I feel like I don’t have a girlfriend anymore,” grumbled Ron.

“I’m sorry, dear,” Hermione said, kissing him on the cheek. In a hushed voice, she leaned over the table and continued. “I’ve been researching how you can defeat Voldemort. I already went through all the books in the Restricted Section, so Professor Dumbledore has written a letter giving me permission to use the library in the Department of Mysteries, since I worked there last summer. I travel by Floo to London whenever I have any free time.”

“I know this is going to sound strange coming out of my mouth,” began Ron, “but are you doing okay on your NEWT revising and your homework?”

“You’re right; I can’t believe you said that,” grinned Hermione, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. I finished most of my revising before Christmas and I’ve been staying up late to get my current homework done. Anyway, I have good news,” she added with a grin.

“What is it, Hermione?” asked Harry.

“Not here, let’s go to the Room of Requirement after dinner and I can tell you there,” she whispered. She then proceeded to eat her dinner quickly, since everyone else was almost done.

Ginny nudged Harry and said with a smirk, “Ron is having a bad influence on her; she’s shovelling it in almost as fast as he does.”

“At least she’s not talking with her mouth full,” snickered Harry. Ron and Hermione both gave them a dirty look, but Hermione didn’t miss a beat and continued to eat very quickly.

When she finished, they all walked to the Room of Requirement, Hermione leading the way as if she couldn’t wait to tell her news. At their request, it made a smaller version of the Gryffindor common room and they sat down in the comfy chairs and sofas provided. “So what did you find, Hermione?” asked Harry.

Hermione was obviously excited and couldn’t sit still. She pulled out of her book bag an old musty book with a title that looked like it was written in a different alphabet. “In the Department of Mysteries, I was just about to give up when I found this book that no one knew existed. It took some time for me to figure out the runes on the cover, but when I translated it, its title is ‘The Bright Arts: The Magic of Love!’ They let me borrow it, with a little nudge from Professor Dumbledore. I talked with him about it, and he gave me permission to work with Professor Babbling on translating it. She said that I could use it as a seventh year project, since I already know the rest of what she is covering this term.”

“What have you learned so far?” asked Ginny.

“Not much; I’ve only been able to finish translating the table of contents, but there is a whole chapter on Soul Bonds, which is probably more information than I could find in all the books combined in the Hogwarts Library. There are, of course, several chapters on love potions and charms to make someone fall in love with another, and there is one chapter on couple spells, ones that can only be done by two people who are in love. We already know that you two can do amazing magic together, but this might have the answer to how to defeat Voldemort! I can’t wait to get started!”

“Great!” grumbled Ron again. “When she gets like this about a topic, she ignores everything else; she’s like a wild animal with food in its jaws, she never lets go.”

Hermione looked hurt for a moment, but then it was obvious that she understood from where Ron was coming. She leaned over and put her hand on his shoulder. “Ron, I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, but this is really important. And, now that I have the book here, I won’t have to go to the Ministry as often. I promise we can take revising breaks; we really will,” adding a waggle of her eyebrows.

“Sounds good,” mumbled Ron, who put his hand behind her neck, pulling her to him and kissed her.

“Perhaps we should leave, Ginny, and let them take one of those ‘revising breaks,’” said Harry, but Ron and Hermione didn’t hear a word. Ginny and Harry left quietly, and didn’t see the other couple for the rest of the evening.

**********

That Saturday, Remus again took Ginny and Harry away from Hogwarts for Apparation practice. Since Sirius Black had been definitively spotted near Hogwarts, he arranged for a Portkey to take them to a secluded field near Loch Ness.

The north side of the Loch was actually a magical game preserve where many magical creatures were allowed to roam without fear of being seen by Muggles. The famous Loch Ness monster was actually the world’s largest kelpie. Nessie sometimes would manage to break through the magical wards that kept it inside the preserve and thus not viewable by Muggles. It was only when he (and, yes, despite the common name, it was a male) broke through these wards that he could be seen. The magical game wardens couldn’t make the wards strong enough to keep him in, so the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures were constantly Obliviating Muggles who had seen him. Unfortunately, a few sightings were missed by the Department so Muggles were aware of the legend. It was within this preserve that the field was located.

“Today, I want to expand on our experiment from last week of sensing each other’s location. How did your practice go this week?”

“It went really well,” said Ginny. “It never took me long to figure out where Harry was after I realized that I could do it.”

“Me, too. It’s almost like we have a constant connection to each other now,” added Harry, looking into his girlfriend’s eyes.

“Ahem,” said Remus after a few moments, pulling the couple out of their trance-like state. “I’m glad that you had success. Now I want to try combining this sense with Apparating.” Turning to Ginny, he said, “Ginny, I want you to Apparate somewhere in this field. Harry, I want you to sense where she is and then Apparate to her. Be sure to Apparate close to her and not right where she is so you don’t hurt her,” he cautioned.

It took a little practice, with a few mishaps resulting in the couple landing on top of each other and a bout of giggles. By the end of the morning, they could do it well. As a final test, Ginny Apparated to the Burrow, and Harry was able to Apparate to her side. Remus soon joined them and they enjoyed a surprise lunch with Mr and Mrs Weasley.

********

A few weeks later, on a Tuesday that fell on the same day as the full moon, Harry’s lesson with Remus was cancelled, so he went out flying again, but this time Madam Hooch was with him, since he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere alone. He was flying high over the pitch when he suddenly felt like his whole body had turned to ice, despite the warming charms he had placed against the elements.

He looked up and saw several Dementors flying toward him. He almost fell off his broom, but managed to get to the ground. Madam Hooch already had her wand out, forming a hawk Patronus that was diving in and out between the Dementors. As soon as he was on the ground, Harry thought of the first time he kissed Ginny and his Mustang erupted out of his wand. It galloped through the air, rearing up and kicking several Dementors, but more and more came. Harry started to lose heart and the Mustang faded. Madam Hooch’s Patronus had also disappeared and a Dementor was over her, preparing to give her the Kiss.

Harry struggled with the feeling of hopelessness caused by the Dark creatures and tried to think of a happier thought. One came to him and then shouted “Expecto Patronum! ” again. This time, a horse at least twenty feet tall came out of his wand, and at his direction, it attacked the Dementor perched over Madam Hooch. As its hooves hit the robed creature, the Dementor exploded with pieces of its robe flying everywhere. Harry’s Patronus then went after the other Dementors, destroying several others before the rest flew off. Harry ran over to Madam Hooch to check on her, and after a few seconds she came to and was okay, if a little weak.

A few moments later, Hermione and Ron came running, followed by Professor McGonagall. “Are you okay, Harry?” asked Hermione. “We saw it all from the Transfiguration classroom. That was some Patronus!”

“Yes, I have never seen a Patronus that big or one that could destroy a Dementor,” said Professor McGonagall. “How did you do it?”

“I just thought the happiest thought I could think and out it came,” blushed Harry.

“I have never heard of such a thing, Mr Potter. You continue to surprise us,” she replied, shaking her head.

Later that evening, Ginny and Harry were snuggled up on a sofa in front of the common room fire. “I heard about your run-in with the Dementors,” she said. “Actually the whole school heard about it. Was your Patronus really a fire breathing dragon that was ten stories high and ate all of the Dementors whole?”

Harry chuckled. “It sounds like the story has become just a wee bit exaggerated. You know that my Patronus form is a Mustang, but it was much larger than my normal one, maybe twenty feet tall. It did kick a few Dementors with its hooves directly, causing them to disintegrate. Most of the Dementors left after the first few were destroyed.”

“How did you make one so big?” she asked, a little awe in her voice.

He smiled down at her. “I just thought of the happiest thought I could.”

“And do I want to know what that was, Mr Potter?” Ginny asked.

“Remember the night after I told your family about my secret and we fell asleep in your bed?” She nodded, so Harry continued. “You said that you wished we could fall asleep like that every night. I don’t think you heard me, but I whispered back, ‘Someday we will.’” Ginny looked up at him at this, but he continued. “I just thought about being with you every night for the rest of our lives. That is my happiest thought.”

Ginny looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I think I know what thought I’ll use next time I need to make a Patronus.”

Back to index


Chapter 27: Outbursts

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay, but a combination of writer's block and the weather made it challenging to write this week. But the weather did give me inspiration on something to have Brook write Aaron about, so some good came of it.

Thanks again to Arnel for her beta work. I wasn't very happy with this chapter at first, but I like it much more after following her suggestions.


Outbursts

Ron and Hermione were pinned down behind a rock by an unknown number of combatants. Spells were flying through the air quickly and furiously, and the pair was having difficulty casting any of their own. Unexpectedly, there was a lull in the spell fire, so Ron stood up, but as he lifted his arm to aim, he felt something hit him in the side. He looked down and said, “Bugger!” seeing red seep over his robes.

“Wands down!” yelled Remus. “Alright everyone, come here to the centre so we can discuss this exercise. That includes you up in the viewing gallery as well,” he said looking up. Remus had requested the Room of Requirement to make a forest scene, but also a balcony from which the students that were not participating could watch.

“Well done, at least for the most part,” Remus started when the students had assembled. “Colin and Lavender, excellent use of the flanking strategy we talked about last week. Padma, Luna, and Dennis, you did well to keep Ron and Hermione’s attention on you with your barrage of spells so that Colin and Lavender could get around to the side. And I am pleased with all of you on your progress with the non-verbal casting of Subficio.”

While reading the paintball strategy book with Ron, the idea came to Hermione that using a magical version of a paintball might be helpful in DA sessions. It would allow the students to practice their aim, clearly mark who had been hit and who hadn’t, and there would be no risk of injury or need to constantly awaken students who had been Stunned. The spell she had found, Subficio, was one that had been used in the past by Defence professors at Hogwarts in first and second year lessons, but not in recent decades. The spell also required little magical energy, so Remus thought it would be a good first step in teaching non-verbal casting.

“Everyone help clean your friends and then let’s work some more on your Patronuses.” Several members of the DA had made good progress on the Patronus Charm. With proper encouragement, Hermione had been able to form an otter again. Ron’s form was a Jack Russell terrier, Ginny’s was an eagle, and Seamus’ was a fox. Most of the others were able to create, at a minimum, a mist, and a few others could form a partially corporeal Patronus, but the forms were too vague to identify yet.

After working for about thirty minutes, Remus announced, “Good work everyone. Luna, I congratulate you on succeeding in creating a corporeal hare Patronus. For those of you who have yet to form a corporeal Patronus, please spend some time this week thinking about what memories you could use to drive your spell. See everyone next week.”

Ron whispered to Harry as they left the Room of Requirement, “I’m surprised it was something so ordinary. I was sure she would form something different like a Crumple-Horned Snorkack or a Diricawl,” he said with a chuckle, before receiving an elbow in the ribs.

“Shh! She might hear you,” scolded Hermione.

Ron rubbed his side and looked over at Luna, who currently seemed to be studying a nook in the corridor next to a suit of armour. “I don’t think she hears anything that people say about her.”

“I think you’d be surprised at what she picks up on,” said Harry. “I believe she hears lots more than she lets on; she just isn’t concerned about people’s opinions of her.”

“You are right, Harry Potter,” Luna said from across the corridor, surprising everyone, since they thought they were being discrete. “Why should I spend time worrying about what other people think when there are so many other much more interesting items to occupy myself with. For instance, do you think this might be a likely spot for a Wrackspurt nest? Maybe I should come back with my Spectrespecs and investigate it further. We wouldn’t want any students to have their studies affected.”

She turned without waiting for an answer to her question and walked down the corridor, leaving the two couples a little stunned.

***********

Harry plopped down next to Lydia, who was seated by herself at breakfast the next Saturday morning. “Hey, Lydia. Missed you at Quidditch practice again last night. I was looking forward to seeing you on your new broom.”

“I’m not sure I want to be on the team anymore, Harry,” she replied quietly with her face staring down at her porridge.

“Why not,” replied a surprised Harry. “I thought you enjoyed being on the team.”

“I did, but playing a game seems so pointless, now,” she said sadly.

Harry nodded. “I understand,” he said as he put his arm around her.

She turned her head and looked up at him, tears in her face. “How do you do it, Harry? How do you go on? Does the pain ever go away?”

He pulled her into a hug and he considered how to answer her questions. “It’s hard, Lydia, but, with time, it does get better. The pain never goes away and you’ll always miss them. Some days it’s hard to get out of bed, but those mornings are less and less frequent, especially with Ginny around.” He pulled back and smirked. “Maybe that’s what we have to do for you, find some boy for you to snog. Have your eyes on anyone? I could try to fix you up.”

Lydia giggled. “No, I don’t think that’s what I need right now.”

“How about flying? That’s what I do when I’m feeling down. Let’s see if we can find a faculty member to chaperone us on the Quidditch pitch and take that broom of yours out for a spin,” he said, starting to rise and looking to see who was sitting at the head table.

Lydia’s face, which had been starting to brighten, darkened again and she turned her face down.

“What is it, Lydia?” Harry asked, his face showing concern as he sat back down.

“Whenever I think about flying my broom, I remember that my Gran and Gramps gave it to me, and it brings everything back.”

“Oh,” replied Harry. After thinking for a few moments, he added, “You could fly one of the house brooms, like you normally do. But, perhaps you should try out the Harpy edition.”

Lydia turned up to look Harry in the eye again. “Why?”

“Well, your grandparents obviously wanted you to enjoy their gift, didn’t they?” When she nodded, he continued. “I didn’t know your grandparents, but I think the best tribute you could give them would be to enjoy that broom like they intended.”

Lydia thought for a moment. “You’re probably right. They would want me to enjoy it.”

“Then, let’s go.” He stood up, grabbing her hand and pulling her up. Professor McGonagall agreed to accompany them out to the pitch, and, as they were heading back up to Gryffindor tower to obtain their brooms, they ran into Ginny and Ron, and Harry explained their plan.

Ron and Ginny looked at each other and Ron said, “We’ll join you as soon as we eat some breakfast.”

Harry and Lydia met Professor McGonagall at the front door and proceeded out to the pitch and Lydia showed off her new broom. It was as good as advertised, and soon the two Gryffindor Seekers were racing around the field. Because of her smaller size, Lydia could accelerate and turn more quickly than Harry, but Harry had a faster maximum speed. When Ginny arrived, she had a turn on the Harpy edition as well, and Harry was mesmerized watching her fly around with such abandon and joy on her face, which he also felt through their Bond.

**********

January 28, 1998

Dear Aaron,

How are things back in Ohio? I’ve been very busy since the beginning of the term. There are major exams given at the end of the year that cover everything that has been taught for the last two years, and the professors are really pushing us to prepare for them. The exams are very important as they help determine what jobs you are eligible for, or what colleges you can go to. Sort of like our SATs and ACTs.

In addition to the professors giving us extra assignments and more reading, most of the students are becoming stressed about them. There have been a lot of late nights, bleary eyes, short tempers, and more coffee being drunk at breakfast than before break. One of my friends, who already tended to study too much, has filled in her day planner for the rest of the school year, scheduling every free minute. And I mean every free minute. To top it off, in her ‘thoughtfulness,’ she made one for me too. Somehow she determined that I need fourteen minutes for “Personal Grooming” every morning and I am allowed to use the loo four times each day. Today, she has allowed me seven and a half minutes for “Correspondence,” so I’m writing you. Just don’t tell her that I’ve already used up most of my “Matter Transference Revising” time on your letter as well.

Seriously, for the most part, it really hasn’t been that bad, at least not yet. However, yesterday, I was looking up something at the library for an assigned essay, and found that several key pages had been torn out of the book! Darn Slytherins!

I guess I should explain that comment. I mentioned to you before that there are four Houses here at Hogwarts. Students are sorted into the Houses based on personality traits. Each house has its good and bad points. I am in Gryffindor, whose students tend to be brave, but are at times fool-hardy, and often speak before they think (remind you of anyone?). Ravenclaws are the most studious, but also tend to think things through too thoroughly. “Paralysis through analysis”, as our favourite chemistry teacher used to say. Hufflepuffs are the most loyal and friendly, but can be too trusting and be taken advantage of. Slytherins have the most ambition and cunning, but they also tend to be out for themselves at the expense of others. I don’t have any proof that the Slytherins removed the pages, but I have my suspicions.

Initially I wasn’t that worried about the exams, since they wouldn’t affect my college choice, but now, my feelings have changed. Or more accurately, my feelings for Ginny have changed my outlook on the exams. Since Ginny is a sixth year, she will have to come back to Hogwarts next year, and I think that I want to stay here in England with her. I can’t imagine going back to the States without her. I probably won’t be coming home for the summer as I originally planned, but hopefully will be able to come for a visit. Maybe we can convince Ginny’s parents to let her come too, so you can meet her. I would like to show her where I grew up. So, now those exams are much more important for me, to make sure I can get into a good college here.

We also have been working on our seventh year projects. We need to research a topic of our choosing and, at the end of the year, we need to give a presentation on what we learned. I am doing mine on electromagnetic shielding. The Headmaster has arranged for my tutor to take me to a local university so I can do use their library to find resources that our school library doesn’t have.

How’s the weather been? Have you had any snow days yet? Obviously they don’t cancel school for weather here, since it is a boarding school. I didn’t realize how much I would miss waking up and learning that we didn’t have to go to school until we had about a foot of snow here and I still had to get out of bed and go to class. On the other side, I don’t miss shoveling all of that snow. (Actually, Harry thought as he wrote this, I may never have to shovel snow again with that snow removal charm that Ron taught me!)

Hope your senior year is going well. Looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Brook

**********

After dinner one day, Dumbledore approached Harry and asked him to meet with him that evening. Harry walked through the corridors until he reached the gargoyle and said the password, Almond Joy, and went up the spiral stairs to his office. “Welcome, Harry. Have a seat.”

“What did you want to speak to me about, Professor?”

“Remus tells me he is very happy with your progress. He told me about your Apparation abilities with Miss Weasley, and I heard about your spectacular Patronus last week. But what I wanted to talk about is Occlumency. He says he has done as much as he can with you and suggested we try some more advanced training with another faculty member, who is very accomplished at Occlumency and Legilimency. I would have had you start your training with him last fall if we hadn’t had to protect your true identity. We want to make sure that you can block out Voldemort, and he is the best at determining this.”

“That’s fine. Who is it?”

“Professor Snape.”

Harry’s face darkened. “Snape? I don’t know if that is a good idea.” He paused as he considered how to describe his rocky relationship with the Defence professor diplomatically. “We have never been on good terms, and things have just worsened this term. Isn’t there anyone else?” Actually, Defence class had been going horribly for Harry, and he was getting angrier and angrier at Snape as the term progressed.

Professor Snape is the best person for this, because he knows exactly what it takes to keep Voldemort out of his mind. Let me tell you something more about his past, which will help explain why he is the best for this job. You already know that he is working as a spy for our side, but this is how that all came to be. When he was in school here, he was Sorted into Slytherin, and, unfortunately, fell in with a crowd interested in the Dark Arts. By the time he finished here, he had become a Death Eater. But near the end of the war, he regretted his decision, and joined our side as a double agent. I hired him as a professor here at Hogwarts, so he could give Voldemort inside information that we wanted him to have, while he continued to act as if he was serving Voldemort, and gave us a lot of helpful information. As a matter of fact, he was the one who warned us that Voldemort was targeting you and your parents. He has already started serving as a spy for us again since Voldemort’s return. Obviously, he has been able to shield all of this from Voldemort, so he is the best person to assess whether you could do so as well.”

“Can he be trusted?” Harry asked sceptically. “In spy movies you never know which side the double agents are on, and I imagine the same is true in real life.”

Dumbledore folded his hands in front of his face and said, “I have reasons to believe that he is on our side. I would trust Professor Snape with my life.”

Harry sighed. “Okay, I guess, but I can’t say I’m looking forward to it.”

“Make the best of it, Mr Potter. Try to put your negative feelings for him aside and I will ask him to do the same.”

The next evening, Harry found himself outside of Professor Snape’s office, awaiting the professor. When he swept down the hallway and opened the door with his wand, Harry followed him in. “Sit, Potter,” the professor said tersely. “Neither of us wants to be here, so let’s get it over with and see if Lupin has been able to teach you anything of worth. Though I am not expecting much.” He turned and aimed his wand at Harry and said, “Legilimens!

Harry fought down his anger at the professor’s comments as he braced himself and quickly built the stone wall to protect his thoughts and memories before what felt like a battering ram in his brain. While Remus used sharp parrying, Snape used brute force. After what seemed like hours, Harry felt his wall starting to crumble slightly, but then Snape withdrew. Harry took a deep breath and relaxed a little. After a moment Harry looked up at Snape again, fatigue and frustration filling him, he snarled, “Was that good enough? Or are you going to berate me for a substandard effort again?”

As Harry stared at Snape, the older man seemed taken aback for a moment and then surprised Harry by saying Legilimens again. Harry quickly responded by throwing up the mirrored wall that Remus had taught him, as it went up quicker than the stone wall. Harry felt Snape’s blow rebound back and caught a glimpse of Snape, with tears streaming down his face, holding a red haired woman with green eyes staring off in space, rocking her back and forth. Before he could orient himself, Harry was thrown from the memory forcefully and sat back suddenly in his chair. “Out of my office, Potter! Now! And never return!” Harry, confused, stood up quickly and left.

He walked the hallways for a while, trying to figure out what had upset Snape so much, when he finally realized what he had seen. Snape was holding my birth mother after she had been killed by Voldemort! He walked quickly to Dumbledore’s office. After he was welcomed, Dumbledore asked, “How did your Occlumency lesson go tonight, Harry?”

“Well enough, I guess. Professor Snape was unable to break down my defences, but I have a question to ask you. What was the nature of the relationship between him and my mother?”

“That is not my story to tell, Harry.”

“Could you at least tell me, was he at Godric’s Hollow the night my parents were killed?”

“Yes, I can tell you that. Professor Snape was the first one to find your parents’ bodies.”

“Thanks, Professor,” Harry said as he left, pondering Snape’s memory of finding his mother. Who would have thought that Snape would have such strong feelings about my mother? The memory of the first Defence class of the term and Snape’s reaction to seeing him came back to Harry. Maybe that’s why he was staring at me that day. Everyone says that I have my mother’s eyes. My eyes must remind him of her. Harry contemplated this new development all of the way back to the tower.

**********

“I hate that greasy-haired git!” Ginny complained as she came in the portrait hole late one evening.

“Had fun at detention?” asked Ron, a smirk on his face.

“It’s not funny, Ron. He is making me rewrite all of my essays from the last two months, accusing me of copying from Colin!”

“Is there a possibility that your essays were similar enough that Professor Snape could be justified in thinking it wasn’t your work?” asked Hermione.

Ginny’s anger grew even greater. “I thought you knew me better than that, Hermione! Sure, there were some similarities between our essays, but that is to be expected since we work together! I can’t believe you would side with Snape on this!” she said as she pulled her wand out and pointed it at Hermione.

Ron jumped up and placed himself between his sister and his girlfriend. “Easy there, Ginny. I think you need to calm down.”

Ginny redirected her wand so that it was pointed at Ron. “Don’t tempt me, Ron!”

Ron turned white, knowing what Ginny’s favourite hex could do when she was angry. “Ginny, Hermione didn’t ‘side with Snape.’ You are overreacting. She was just asking you a reasonable question. Please, take a deep breath and settle down.”

Ginny’s wand hand trembled just millimetres from Ron’s nose for a few more moments and then she dropped it to her side, her shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, guys. You’re both right.” She collapsed on a nearby sofa and added, “I don’t know what’s with me today; it seems like I’m on edge for no reason. I’ve been snapping at everyone all day.”

Ron sat down next to her and patted her on the shoulder. “I noticed that you were acting more moody earlier. Is it … you know, um, your time of the month?” he asked, turning red.

Ginny whirled around again. “No, it is not my ‘time of the month,’ Ronald! Women are allowed to be ‘moody’ without it being their ‘time of the month!” she yelled at him.

“Will you two hold it down?!” said Harry angrily from the doorway to the stairs. “I’ve been trying to revise in our dorm and I could hear your yelling all the way up there. It certainly isn’t helping my headache any!”

Ginny jumped up and went to Harry, slipping an arm around his waist. “Oh, I’m sorry, love. I forgot that you’ve been complaining about a headache all day. Are you alright?”

Harry’s face relaxed and said, “I’m better now,” smiling down at her and placing a peck on her forehead. “From the yelling and your agitation, I would guess that detention with Snape did not go well.”

“No, it didn’t. He accused me of copying from Colin and I have to rewrite two months’ worth of essays,” she pouted.

Harry‘s arm tensed around her shoulder and Ginny could feel his anger grow. “How dare he?! I have half a mind to go to his office and tell him where he can get off!”

Hermione appeared next to the couple, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. “You two need to cool down,” she whispered. “I think your emotional sharing through the Bond is causing both of you to be short-tempered.” She paused for a moment to let that thought sink in. “Let’s go over to that corner and talk for a bit,” she suggested once the tension had dissipated.

After the two couples had sat down, Hermione waved her wand, placing a Muffliato Charm on the corner. “You two are going to have to be careful in the future. You can’t let the Bond allow your emotions to escalate like that.” She turned to Harry and said, “You said that you have had a headache all day. Is it one of those headaches? Have you seen anything through your link to Voldemort?”

Harry thought for a moment and shook his head. “I’m not sure if my headache is caused by Voldemort. I haven’t seen anything since my Occlumency shields have been strengthened. I do notice, though, that my headache is less irritating when I am touching Ginny. Maybe Voldemort is up to something.”

“That doesn’t explain why Ginny is so irritable, though.” Ginny began to get angry again and started to say something, but Hermione countered before she could. “Ginny, you just admitted that you’ve been snapping at everyone, so don’t deny it.” Ginny’s frustration deflated as she agreed with her best friend. “I think we’ll have to keep an eye on your moods, both of you, and see if we can make any correlation to Voldemort’s activities.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Ron. “In the meantime, I think Harry and Ginny need to go to bed. Hopefully, in the morning they will be feeling better.”

**********

The next day, the two couples were eating breakfast together–the emotions of the previous night put behind them–when the owl post came in. As they ate, they noticed murmuring and gasps around the room. Ginny and Harry looked up and saw Hermione reading The Daily Prophet, her face white as a sheet.

“Hermione, what’s wrong. What is that rag reporting today?” asked Ginny.

Hermione turned the paper toward the couple revealing the headline,

Dementors Revolt, Leave Azkaban

Prisoners Escape As Well

“It says that ten of Voldemort’s strongest supporters escaped after the Dementors left. It is believed that the Dementors have gone over to assist Voldemort,” she summarized.

Harry noticed that Neville was extremely pale when he grabbed the paper out of Hermione’s hand, reading it quickly. As he read, Neville’s face turned serious, and if Harry didn’t know him better, he would have sworn that his face was filled anger. He threw the paper back on the table and left the Great Hall hurriedly.

Harry looked at Ginny, whose face showed she was obviously as confused as he was, and she shrugged. Harry then asked Hermione and Ron, “Do you two have any idea why Neville would react that way?”

Both of them shook their heads. “Neville’s always been fairly quiet about his life outside of Hogwarts, other than his greenhouses,” said Hermione as she read through the article again. “He typically clams up if someone asks about his family. Apparently, something in the article set him off, but I don’t see what it could be.”

Many of the students around the room had started to get up, signalling time for morning classes. “We better get going,” said Hermione. “We don’t want to be late for Defence.”

As they left the Great Hall, Harry gave Ginny a peck on the cheek as she headed for Charms, following Hermione and Ron to Defence, but thinking about Neville on the way. When they entered the classroom, Harry saw that the seat next to Neville was available, so he sat there.

Snape had not arrived yet, so Harry leaned over to his roommate. “Hey, Neville, are you alright? You left the Great Hall quickly this morning.”

Neville looked down at the Defence book open on the desk in front of him. “I’m fine, Harry,” but Harry could tell that he was tense.

“Okay, but if you ever need to talk about something, I’m all ears.” Harry sat back upright just as Snape entered the room, ordering them to open their books to the chapter on Hags.

A/N: I know that in canon, Ginny’s Patronus is a horse, but I do have a reason for changing it, just like my reason for changing Harry’s. The reason will be revealed later; just be patient.

Back to index


Chapter 28: Love is in the Air

Love is in the Air

January turned to February and the students were all getting excited about another Hogsmeade weekend that would allow them to shop for Valentine’s Day. Harry had some plans that he was trying to keep secret from Ginny, which was becoming more difficult as their Bond strengthened. “What are you thinking about, Potter?” Ginny asked late one night. “I can tell you are excited, but I also detect some mischief,” she said with her eyes narrowed.

“I am just planning something special for Valentine’s, Gin. Please don’t ruin the surprise,” he pleaded.

“Okay,” she responded reluctantly. “But it better be worth the wait,” she added with a grin on her face as she squeezed his arm.

“Oh, I think it will be,” he replied with a smirk.

A few minutes later, the portrait hole opened and Hermione bounded into the common room, obviously excited. She came over to the table Ginny and Harry were sharing with Ron and said, “Ginny and Harry, I just finished translating the chapter of The Bright Arts book on the Soul Bond and it confirms everything I found out earlier. You definitely have a Soul Bond. I learned some other exciting things that you will probably want to know.” She looked around and saw that they were the only ones left in the common room.

“Like what?” asked Ginny.

“First, Soul Bonds are indeed very rare. There were only six recorded in history at the time the book was written, which was 1874. In my other research, I couldn’t find any recent examples, so I think you may be only the seventh recorded couple with a Soul Bond.”

“Wow,” said Harry, not sure how to react to that news. Through the Bond, Harry sensed that Ginny was feeling awe and a little apprehension that this was such a rare occurrence. He reached out and clutched her hand, sending a wave of calm to her. She turned to him and gave him a subtle smile in thanks and then turned back to Hermione.

“Next, there are some other abilities that you may develop with time. You may be able to sense where the other one is, wherever they are.”

“Yep, we can do that,” said Harry, unimpressed.

Hermione was obviously hoping for more of a reaction, but she went on. “And, you can use that ability to Apparate to each other.”

“We can do that too,” smiled Ginny. “Remus has been working with us on it.”

Hermione looked disappointed.

“Did you learn anything else, Hermione?” asked Ginny.

A little more smugly, Hermione continued. “Well, there is another chapter that I initially didn’t understand just based on the table of contents, but now can see that it is special spells that those with a Soul Bond can do, but I’m just starting on that one. I am really hopeful that there will be something in it that you can use. I will keep working on that and let you know what I learn.”

She leaned in, her face turning more serious. “I also need to caution you about two things. The first one is a little embarrassing to talk about. It has to do with, well, consummating your relationship.”

“Oi! You’re talking about my little sister there!” said Ron.

“If you can’t handle discussing this, Ronald, then you can leave.” Hermione waited a moment, and then proceeded, seeing that Ron was going to stay. “Well, it’s obvious that you haven’t taken that step yet, because there is only one thing that can sever a Soul Bond, not even death. The only way to break a Soul Bond is to have intercourse outside of marriage, even with each other. That includes pre-marital sex and adultery. And apparently, when the Soul Bond is severed, the result is not pleasant. The one time a couple had sex before marriage, they both were unable to feel any emotions for the rest of their lives. While they survived, neither of them received any enjoyment in anything ever again. They both eventually committed suicide because they couldn’t experience any feelings. In the one case of adultery, the man’s, um,” she paused, struggling what word to use, blushing a little. “… bits fell off.”

“Ouch,” said Harry.

“It would serve you right if you ever cheated on my sister, Potter!” said Ron.

“Not that I would ever consider it, but I think losing my bits would be the least of my worries, knowing Ginny’s temper.”

“And don’t you forget it,” teased Ginny.

Harry’s face glazed over, obviously thinking about something.

Ginny waved her hand in front of his face. “Harry, what is it? Where did you just go?”

Harry snapped back to the present. “I was just thinking about what Hermione said and it reminded me of something that happened last spring.” He paused, not sure how to proceed. “After our prom,” he started. Noticing the looks of confusion, he explained. “A prom is a formal dance that occurs at the end of the school year. Anyway, after the prom, my girlfriend surprised me with a present, a key to a hotel room.” He paused again. “She wanted to give me something to remember her by before I left for Scotland. She wanted me to sleep with her.” He quickly placed his hand on Ginny’s forearm, sensing her growing jealousy and anger, sending soothing feelings through the touch. He whispered to her, “Don’t get angry yet; I haven’t finished the story.”

To everyone he continued. “I had this feeling, not quite a voice, but almost, in the back of my mind saying, ‘She’s not the one. ’ I knew at that moment that I couldn’t give in to her wishes. It must have been something to do with the Bond protecting me before I knew you.” He whispered into Ginny’s ear, “You are the only one I ever want to love like that,” giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. She blushed at the feelings of desire he was pushing through the hand on her arm.

Hermione cleared her throat to get the attention of the couple back to the discussion. “When you do make love after you are married, a type of wonderful magic occurs that is hard to imagine. I don’t want to ruin it for you, so I won’t tell you what happens,” she said with sly smile.

“The other caution has to do with death. If one of you dies, because of your link, the other one’s magic will slowly weaken until his or her magical reserve erodes, causing the other member of the couple to die as well. Generally, the surviving member of the couple will start to deteriorate within one week and generally last only a month or so."

“That’s a cheery thought to end the day on,” said Ron.

“I just thought you two should know,” said Hermione quietly.

During the next few minutes, the four teens each sat and thought about the information Hermione had shared. Eventually, Harry broke the silence by saying, “Thanks, Hermione, we do appreciate all the work you are putting in on this.” Ginny nodded in agreement. “We all better go to bed; it’s getting late.”

The two couples stood up quietly, kissed good night, and walked in the direction of their dorms. Harry and Ron had just opened the door to the stairs when they heard Ginny yell, “Hermione!” They turned quickly and ran to the other stairs to find Hermione collapsed in Ginny’s arms but with her eyes staring off into space.

Ron grabbed her shoulders and shook them, “Wake up, Hermione, wake up!” After another fifteen seconds or so, Hermione’s eyes blinked and she regained awareness. “Are you alright, love?” asked Ron. “Did you have another of your visions?”

She turned into his chest and hugged him tightly, sobbing. “It’ll be alright, Hermione,” said Ron comforting her.

When she had recovered some, she sat up and looked at Harry, insisting, “You can’t go to Hogsmeade this Saturday, Harry!”

Harry’s eyes opened wide. “Why not? What did you see?”

Hermione looked down, fighting back the tears that threatened to erupt again. “You were in an alley, fighting at least six Death Eaters. They had you pinned down and you were just barely able to hold your own.”

“Was he hurt?” asked Ginny.

“I don’t know. The vision ended before the fight was over. It didn’t look good, though. You’re a good duellist, Harry, but not even you can fight off six experienced Death Eaters by yourself.” She reached out and grabbed Harry’s hand. “Promise us you won’t go; I don’t want to see this vision come true like the last two!”

“I promise I won’t go. I’ll stay here and study; NEWTs are coming up, after all.”

“I’ll stay with you,” offered Ginny.

Harry shook his head. “No, I don’t want to ruin your weekend too. I think we can handle being apart for a few hours.”

Ginny tilted her head slightly. “If you’re sure. Colin and Demelza have been complaining I never spend any time with them since we’ve been together. I could go with them. Maybe I can even encourage Demelza to see Colin in a different light,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Ron yawned and said, “I don’t know about you three, but I am really tired. Are you okay to go to bed, Hermione?”

“Yeah, sleeping actually helps me recover from the wiped out feeling I have after these visions.”

Ginny helped her up to her dorm while Ron and Harry climbed the stairs to theirs. After getting into bed, Harry stared up at the canopy over his bed. I guess I’ll have to come up with a plan B, he thought as he reviewed the preparations that he had made earlier in the day.

**********

When Remus arrived for his lesson, Harry asked if, instead of tutoring, the two of them could run some errands. Harry knew that he would need an escort because Sirius was still loose, and thought Remus would be a big help.

Their first stop was the Burrow. He had written to Mr and Mrs Weasley, asking them to be home in the early afternoon. Harry and Remus Apparated just outside the back door. Harry hesitated for a moment, gulped, and then took a deep breath before knocking. Remus just looked on with an amused grin on his face. When Mrs Weasley opened the door, she greeted him with a hug and offered the two some biscuits as they sat at the kitchen table.

“What did you want to see us about, Harry?” asked Arthur.

Harry took another deep breath. “Mr and Mrs Weasley,” he began, “I know this may seem sudden to you, but I think you know how I feel about your daughter. We haven’t known each other very long, but I love her with all my heart. I can’t imagine being apart from her, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. You also know about our Soul Bond, which, as Hermione learned, basically means we are destined to be together. Because I want to do this correctly, I am here to ask your blessing for Ginny’s hand in marriage.”

Arthur and Molly were obviously taken aback at Harry’s request, making Harry even more nervous. Arthur regained his voice first. “Don’t you think this is a little premature, Harry?” he asked. “Lots of wizards and witches get married after seventh year like we did, but Ginny still has another year at Hogwarts, and she won’t even be of age until this summer.”

“I realize that, and I would never stand in the way of Ginny’s education. I haven’t talked to her, but I was picturing us getting married after she finishes next summer. If we agree to put off the wedding until then, can I have your blessing?”

At first there was no reaction from either of them, which made him a little nervous. But as he looked closer, he saw tears starting to form in Molly’s eyes and she stood and engulfed him in a huge hug. As he looked over her shoulder, Arthur stood as well and patted him on the shoulder and said, “We would be happy to have you marry our daughter. You have our blessing.” Harry noticed that Arthur’s eyes were moist also.

When she had recovered a little, Molly sniffed and said, “We actually thought this moment might come after seeing the two of you at Christmas. You noticed our family clock, didn’t you?” indicating a clock that showed the whereabouts of all the Weasleys, including Fleur and Audrey. She went over to a drawer on the other side of the kitchen and pulled out a box that reminded Harry of a box for a bracelet. She opened it, showing Harry its contents. It contained a clock hand with his name and picture on it. “We bought this shortly after you went back to school,” she added. “We are happy to have you join our family.”

This time Harry grabbed Molly into a hug. Tears fell down his cheeks. “You don’t know what this means to me. After losing my family, being accepted into yours is just amazing.”

Molly pulled back and said, “We just have one requirement if you are going to marry our little Ginny. We’d like you to call us ‘Molly and Arthur.'”

“I can try to do that, but no promises.”

“Do you know when you are going to ask her?” asked Molly, a twinkle in her eye. “I don’t know how long I can keep this a secret.”

“Saturday is a Hogsmeade weekend for Valentine’s Day. I have a private room reserved at the Three Broomsticks for lunch. I thought I would do it then.”

“Good. Then I won’t have to keep my lips zipped for too long.”

**********

Next they went to Gringotts and visited the Potter family vault. “Remus, I know one of the rooms is just filled with jewellery, but I need help finding the right ring. I would like to give Ginny the ring my dad gave my mother. Think you can help me find it?”

After a little searching, Remus found the box he was looking for. “I think this is it, Harry,” he said, handing it to Harry. The box was about three by six inches and made of a darkly stained wood. On the lid was a crest with a lion on it. Harry opened the box and a parchment fell out. He picked it up off the ground, unfolded it, and read.

September 15, 1981

Dear Harry,

If you are reading this, it means that we didn’t survive the war and Sirius or Remus is giving you this in our place as requested in our will. These rings have been in the Potter family for generations to be given by the eldest son to his bride.

We don’t know what kind of life you have led without us, but we want you to know that as a boy, you were loved. The day you were born was the happiest day of our lives and you filled our house with joy. We can imagine you growing up, perhaps a Quidditch star (if your love of your first broom is any indication), perhaps following in the mischievous steps of the Marauders, perhaps top of your class in Potions and Charms like your Mum. Or maybe none of these; you are your own person after all. But regardless of who you have become, know that we are proud of the fine young man you have become. And we are saddened by all of the things we missed, but especially meeting the young woman who has captured your heart.

We leave you with one piece of advice. Treasure her, never forgetting what a gift she is, and place her life and her wishes before your own. If you remember this, your marriage can be just as blessed as ours.

Love,

Mum and Dad

With tears in his eyes, Harry looked down at the three rings encased in the felt-lined box. The engagement ring was gold, decorated with two intertwined ropes. There was a modest diamond in the middle surrounded by two emeralds. The two other rings were matching but of different sizes. Both were also gold and had the same rope motif. “These rings have been in the Potter family for generations. As I told you before, Potter men tend to fall for redheads, so the emeralds contrast nicely,” said Remus.

Harry looked up at Remus, surprised at his tutor. “How do you know so much about it?” he asked.

Remus paused and smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. “I did this same errand with James, along with Sirius. We heard the story then. I’m glad to be able to help pass along the tradition.”

“I’m sure my dad would have liked that.”

**********

Harry returned from his reverie back to staring at the canopy. What else can I do to make this special for her since I can’t go to the Three Broomsticks? he thought and fell asleep running different scenarios through his brain.

Dumbledore almost cancelled the Hogsmeade visit for everyone after Hermione told him about her vision, but he decided to allow everyone except Harry to go and told the Ministry, which agreed to provide extra Aurors for protection of the students, and hopefully the Aurors would be able to capture any Death Eaters that did arrive. Harry finally did convince Ginny to go with Colin and Demelza. After seeing them off, he went up to the library for a few hours to study. He was so engrossed that he missed lunch and didn’t realize it until his stomach rumbled at half two. Maybe a trip to the kitchens is in order, he thought. As he walked, he was thinking about his plan B, which involved using the Room of Requirement that evening after Ginny returned from Hogsmeade, when he heard someone behind him. When he turned, he didn’t see anything. Maybe I’m a little jumpy because of Hermione’s vision. He took a deep breath. But it can’t happen now since I am not going to Hogsmeade, he thought, moments before everything went black.

**********

When he came to, the first thing he was aware of were two huge eyes staring at him, just a few inches from his face. Surprised, he pulled back, hitting his head on something. He groaned and tried to lift his hand to the back of his head, but discovered that his hands were tied behind his back. As he looked around, he saw that he was in a dark room, lying on his side with his hands tied behind his back and his ankles tied as well. And the owner of those two eyes was a house-elf.

“The great Harry Potter is awake. Dobby is so sorry he has to obey his nasty Master against such a powerful wizard. Oh, I shouldn’t say things like that about my Master.” He walked over to a nearby wall and began slamming his head against it.

Harry was unsure what to do as the small creature continued to hit his head over and over again. He then remembered what he had learned about house-elves from Hermione. “Dobby, is it? Please stop punishing yourself.” Harry became frustrated that this had no effect. Time to be more commanding, he thought. “Dobby! Stop punishing yourself!”

The small creature stopped momentarily and looked at Harry. “Dobby must be punished for unkind sayings,” and he walked over to a desk, picked up what looked like a letter opener and started stabbing himself in the hand.

“Dobby, I order you to stop punishing yourself! You are not to hurt yourself!” yelled Harry.

The house-elf dropped the letter opener and turned toward Harry. “The great Harry Potter is so kind that he even cares about a house-elf like Dobby that he has never met, but has done bad things to him. Oh, Dobby wishes he could serve Harry Potter and not Dobby’s masters.” He fell down at Harry’s knees as if bowing to him.

“Dobby, what did you do to me that was so bad?” asked Harry.

Dobby raised his head and looked up at Harry. “Dobby was ordered to Apparate you from Hogwarts, so Dobby had to. Dobby didn’t want to, but Dobby had to,” he said as he lowered his head, shaking it back and forth.

Harry thought over this information. “I thought it was impossible to Apparate in and out of Hogwarts.”

“It is not possible for witches and wizards, but house-elves can. House-elf magic is different from witches and wizards.”

“Okay.” If I’m not in Hogwarts, maybe I can Apparate out of here. He tried but found that he couldn’t. Must be anti-Apparation wards up. “Dobby, where are we?”

“Dobby and the great Harry Potter are in a deserted shop in Hogsmeade, and my Master is going to return any moment. Oh, dear, and he is going to do evil things to the great Harry Potter,” he said as he wrung his hands.

Harry considered his options, when an idea came to him. “Dobby, can your magic Apparate me out of here?”

“Yes, of course it can.”

“Then, I order you Dobby to Apparate me back to Hogwarts.”

Dobby hung his head again. “Dobby is sorry, but Dobby cannot do that. My Master ordered me to do nothing to assist in your escape, even though that is Dobby’s greatest wish. If Dobby was no longer bound, I would do anything the great Harry Potter asked me to, but alas Dobby cannot go against his Master’s orders.”

“Are you saying that you would like to be free? I thought house-elves did not want to be freed.”

“Oh, Dobby would love nothing more than to be free! But it is not possible!” The house-elf then threw himself down on Harry’s knees and started to sob.

“Dobby, please calm down.” When Dobby continued to sob, Harry said, “Dobby, I order you to stop crying.” Dobby took a deep breath, sniffed, and then stopped.

At that moment, the door opened and a bright light engulfed the room, momentarily blinding Harry. He heard the door close again and heard, “So you’re awake, huh, Potter? It’s about time.” Harry recognized the voice of Draco Malfoy and looked around in the direction of the voice, confirming his suspicions.

“So, it’s you who attacked me from behind like a coward. What do you want with me, Malfoy?”

“To turn you over to the Dark Lord, of course. He is coming with his Death Eaters to Hogsmeade today and I am going to be richly rewarded for turning his enemy over to him.”

“You wish, Malfoy. You really think he’s going to be happy with you when he discovers that you had me, but then lost me before you could hand me over?”

“There’s no way you can get out of those binds, especially since I have your wand.” Draco was twirling Harry’s wand in his fingers with a nasty gleam in his eyes. He turned his head at the sound of multiple cracks in the street in front of the building. “They’re here. Dobby, I order you to make sure Potter does not escape. Sit tight, Potter, I’ll be back with them in just a moment. Maybe he’ll let me watch you die,” he said with an evil lilt to his voice.

He placed Harry’s wand on the desk, gagged Harry, and, as Draco turned to leave, he pulled a mask out of his robes and placed it on his face. Here’s my last chance, thought Harry. He used his wandless magic to transfigure Draco’s mask into a black t-shirt that covered Draco’s face. “What the …?” Draco said as he removed the shirt from his face and threw it behind him angrily. As it flew through the air, Harry noticed that, ironically, it was a Phantom of the Opera t-shirt, picturing the famous mask. Not what I had planned but I guess it works. The shirt completed its arc and landed on Dobby’s head as Draco slammed the door shut.

Dobby started jumping for joy. “Master has given Dobby clothes! Dobby is free! Dobby can do anything Dobby wants!” Before Harry could get Dobby’s attention, the house-elf was gone, seemingly forgetting Harry in his joy. Oh, well. I guess he can’t help me out of here, but at least he isn’t going to keep me here anymore. Harry took in his surroundings; it seemed to be an abandoned store, with the windows overlooking the street and the front door boarded up. The only light coming in was through the small window in the side door. As soon as Draco left, Harry thought, How dense is Malfoy anyway? He’s only seen me do wandless magic three times! You’d think he would catch on that I don’t need my wand for everything. He flipped over on his other side, facing away from the table where his wand was. He concentrated and thought Accio wand. The slap of the wand hitting his hand signalled his success. With the wand, he thought Finite Incantatem, pointing the wand toward his wrists. He felt the binds disappear. He removed the gag and repeated the incantation aloud to free his feet.

He then went quietly to the side door that Draco had left through. He opened it a crack, looked out, and stepped out into the alley when he didn’t see anything. He again tried to Apparate, but determined that the anti-Apparation wards must extend outside of the building. Before he could start toward the main street, there was another set of cracks, and suddenly there were six masked Death Eaters where the alley met the street. One of the Death Eaters yelled, “It’s Potter! Get him!” and suddenly Harry was surrounded by spells being thrown at him. He was able to put up a shield to protect himself from some, and he dodged others, but the spells were coming at him so fast that he didn’t have time to fight back.

Harry saw a large rubbish bin and dove behind it so he could regroup and figure out what to do next. I wish Ginny could Apparate to me. Together, we could get out of this. He peered out from behind his protection, shot a blind Stupefy at the Death Eaters and returned back to cover. Suddenly, he heard a pop behind him, causing him to whip around, wand at the ready to attack.

“Harry, relax! It’s me!” whispered Ginny.

Harry recovered from his surprise quickly and switched his wand to his left hand, reaching out his right to her. “Ginny, grab my hand.” They had practiced after some DA sessions fighting like this so that they could boost their power. At first using his left hand for spells was challenging, but he had quickly became good at it. Then, they had worked on the timing involved in one of them dropping a shield momentarily, while the other would fire a spell before the first one raised the shield again, using a signal of a hand squeeze to indicate that they were ready to cast. Initially, they had some accidents when the timing was off and the spell would reflect back at them off the shield. Eventually, they had been able to get up the split second control allowing the spell to escape with minimal time without the protection of the shield. Harry quickly surrounded them with a shield that he knew would be nearly impenetrable before rising from behind the dumpster. Several spells shot at them instantly but they all bounced off the shield harmlessly. Ginny then squeezed Harry’s hand and he dropped the shield for just a moment while Ginny yelled, “Expulso! ” A huge explosion hit the street right in front of the Death Eaters, throwing them all backwards and knocking them all unconscious. Ginny and Harry then ran out to the street to join the rest of the fight.

As they arrived at the main street, they saw many individual duels underway. While deciding which one to join, they noticed Neville trading spells with an older woman with wild black hair and heavy lidded eyes. Neville’s face was filled with fury, which shocked both of them, as they had never seen the even-tempered boy that angry. From across the street, they saw him tripped by a jinx and the woman yelled, “Ha, Longbottom! No better than your parents, I see. Let’s find out if you are any better at withstanding the Cruciatus! Crucio! ” They watched as he writhed in pain and screamed. They ran over and launched some spells at the woman. As she turned to see who was attacking her, she said, “Oh, little bitty baby Potter is here? And he knows how to play,” she cackled. “Very well, then,” she said before casting a curse that Harry did not recognize toward the pair. To avoid being hit, they let go of each other’s hand to dive out of the way. Harry quickly rolled back over to Ginny and cast a Stupefy back at the woman. She waved her wand to block the spell, and her face registered shock when it broke right through her shield before she was knocked unconscious.

As they ran to check on Neville, they heard a ping behind them. They turned and saw that another Death Eater was shooting spells at them, but the spells were bouncing off the shield that Ginny was holding. Harry squeezed her hand and she released the shield long enough for him to yell, “Expelliarmus! ” The spell hit the masked wizard, throwing him back against a wall. He collapsed to the ground, motionless.

“Neville, are you alright?” asked Ginny when they arrived at his side.

“Don’t worry about me; I’ll be okay,” he replied as he panted. “Go on, take out the rest of them.”

Continuing to hold hands, they were able to fight back to back, easily defeating any Death Eaters they came across. They worked their way up the street toward the Three Broomsticks and thought the battle was over when suddenly they heard a pop and Voldemort was standing before them.

“So, Harry, we meet again. I have been able to regain all my strength since last we met,” he said malevolently. “Your dodging will not save you this time. Are you ready to die?” Voldemort said with an evil grin.

“No, Tom, I’m not. You see, I am stronger too.”

“How dare you use that name! You will pay for that!” Voldemort started walking toward them slowly, as if out for a Sunday stroll. As he approached, Harry and Ginny both shot spells at Voldemort, but he easily tossed them aside with a flip of his wrist and a sneer. “At least you are fighting like a wizard this time.” Voldemort then began throwing spells at them, but Harry and Ginny were able to block them all by concentrating together on their shield. It was obvious that Voldemort was becoming frustrated at his lack of ability to break through their defences. “How can you be so strong? You showed none of this ability in the cemetery. No one is as strong a wizard as I am!” Voldemort’s surprised look changed back into an evil grin and then stared right into Harry’s eyes. Harry could feel him entering his mind, but he concentrated on his love for Ginny and was able put up a wall that threw the other wizard out immediately. Voldemort staggered a little and then smiled and stared at Ginny instead. She felt a sudden stab of pain as he entered her brain and her hands went up to her head as she screamed. Harry felt the pain as well, but not as severe as his usual headaches from Voldemort’s intrusions. As she fell in pain, their connection was momentarily broken before Harry grabbed her around the waist.

“Ah, I see, Potter. You two have a bond and you need to have physical contact with the girl to have this power. I’ll just have to separate you, then!” He sent a Blasting Curse at their feet, but Harry was able to put up a strong enough shield to protect them. However, he couldn’t prevent the street beneath them from being destroyed, and a huge hole about ten feet deep appeared under their feet. As they fell, Harry held onto the barely conscious Ginny with all his strength, twisting at the last moment so that he landed first, cushioning her fall. He felt a few cracks in his side as his ribs fractured. He couldn’t get his breath, but held the shield in place as he saw Voldemort peer over the edge of the hole. Harry then heard more pops and saw Voldemort turn his head. “I guess our battle will have to wait for another day, Potter,” and he disappeared with a barely audible pop.

Harry’s vision was starting to darken when he saw several Aurors at the edge of the hole, including one with bright pink spiky hair. “Wotcher, Harry. You alright?” Tonks asked, but before he could answer everything went black.

Back to index


Chapter 29: Aftermath

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who voted for Paintball Wizard in the Silver Trinket awards. While I don't write for accolades, it is always nice to know that ones stories are enjoyed. I also must thank Arnel, my beta, because I am sure that without her efforts the story wouldn't have received the awards.


Aftermath

Harry was in a deep, dark pool. He felt the cold pressure of the water around him and, when he tried to breathe, no air came in. He tried to swim to the surface, but he had no idea which way to go. His lungs were burning with their lack of oxygen and he started to panic. He felt like his chest was going to burst when he saw a light in the distance that was white in the centre but gradually became a shade of red toward the edge. He struggled to swim toward it, but was too weak to get any closer, and he gave up, unable to fight anymore. As he gazed at the light, it started to grow, and, as it approached, he saw a hand come out of the middle of it. With his last effort, he raised his arm and grabbed the hand, which started pulling him through the water.

The next moment, his eyes popped open, and then he closed them again quickly as the bright light blinded him. He coughed and took a deep breath before opening his eyes a little slower this time. As he blinked he saw a light over him and a brown fuzzy shape blocked it. “Oh, good you’re awake. I’ll bet you could use these.” He felt his glasses being placed on his face, allowing him to make out that the shape above him was Hermione. As he awoke more fully, he felt a weight on his chest, and looked down to see Ginny curled up next to him with her head on his chest and her fingers entwined with his left hand.

“Thanks, Hermione. Where am I? Is Ginny okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine, just a little tired. You’re in the hospital wing. You were injured in a duel with Voldemort, but you survived yet again.” She turned, pulled back the curtain around the bed and called, “Madam Pomfrey, Harry’s awake.”

Madam Pomfrey hurried in. “Let me check you out, Mr Potter,” she said as she waved her wand over his body. Ginny stirred, let out a yawn, turned her head up toward Harry, and smiled. Madam Pomfrey continued, “You both gave us a scare for a little bit, but you check out just fine. I don’t understand this Soul Bond and how it affects your health. Apparently, I need to do some reading if you are going to keep putting yourself in harm’s way.” She turned and left quickly, but Harry heard her tell someone that it was okay to go in and visit them.

Ginny asked, “How are you feeling Harry?” as she sat up. She slid closer to him on the bed while maintaining her hold on his hand.

Harry focused on her beautiful brown eyes as he said, “Actually, other than a little tired, I feel okay, but I always feel better with you in my arms. But what are you doing in my bed here in the hospital wing? I would think that Madam Pomfrey would frown on that. And what did she mean by ‘giving her a scare’? How bad am I hurt? Are you okay, Ginny?”

“Slow down, Harry. You sound like Hermione with all those rapid fire questions,” said Ron with a smile as he pulled back the curtain. He was followed by his parents. Mrs Weasley pushed Ron out of the way, rushed over to Harry’s side of the bed, and grabbed Harry into a hug.

“We’re so glad you’re okay, Harry! Are you sure you feel alright?”

“I’m fine, Molly … er Mrs Weasley. What is everyone so worried about? What happened?”

Ginny gave Harry a quizzical look, but before she could say anything, Hermione jumped in.

“I can explain, Harry,” said Hermione. “When you fell into the hole that Voldemort created, you landed on your chest and back. You fractured several ribs and those ribs punctured your lung and your kidney, so you were haemorrhaging internally. When they transported you back here, Madam Pomfrey was trying to stop the haemorrhaging, but you were just getting worse and worse and she thought we were going to lose you. Meanwhile, she had called in another healer from St. Mungo’s to help with all of the other injured students as soon as she heard about the attack in Hogsmeade. He was working on Ginny but, despite not being able to find anything wrong with her, she was fading almost as quickly as you were. Ron and I had come in to check on the two of you and were being shooed out when I realized it was due to your Bond. I told Madam Pomfrey what I suspected, and she put Ginny in your bed. Shortly after you touched, you both started improving.

Harry’s face twisted in confusion. “So, what was happening, Hermione?”

“I couldn’t sleep last night, so I was doing some more translation on The Bright Arts book …”

“Mental, she is,” said Ron. “Only Hermione would be translating runes in the middle of the night to help her get to sleep.”

Hermione just rolled her eyes at him and continued. “As I was saying before I was interrupted, in the chapter on the Soul Bond, I found a section on a physical bonding between the couple. As the Bond strengthens, when one of the two is injured, the other one feels their pain, to the point that sometimes they seem to have the same injury.”

Harry nodded in understanding. “So that’s why I felt a stab of pain when Voldemort was probing Ginny’s mind and putting her in agony.”

“Yes, that makes sense. In addition to that, because of this physical bond, contact between the two can help the injured one heal, even when other healing has no effect.”

“That helps explain my dream then,” said Harry. “While I was out, I dreamt I was in a pool of water and couldn’t breathe. But then I saw this light that was rimmed in red. I tried to get to it, but I couldn’t. Then, a hand came out of the light and grabbed me and pulled me out.” He looked at Ginny and said, “Looks like you saved my life, Ginny. Thanks.” He lifted their entwined hands and kissed the back of hers.

“From what I heard about our battle with Voldemort, you saved my life too, but who’s counting,” as she returned the kiss to his cheek.

“How long have I been out?” asked Harry.

Hermione answered, “Ginny recovered within half an hour, but you took a little longer.”

“How much longer?” asked Harry anxiously.

“It’s about seven in the morning, now, so I guess about fifteen hours. We’ve all been up all night worrying about you,” replied Hermione.

“Oh,” said Harry dejectedly. So much for plan B, he thought. On to plan C, whatever that is. Trying to hide his disappointment, he said to everyone. “Well, I feel fine now, so why don’t you all get some sleep. I’m sure you are tired.”

Mrs Weasley gave her husband a significant look. “Arthur, we should be on our way, now that we know that Ginny and Harry are both okay.” She hugged both of them, and when she was hugging Harry, she whispered to him, “And I thought I was the one that was going to let it slip.” She had a conspiratorial grin on her face as she kissed him on the cheek, then turned to her daughter. “Take care of him, Ginny. Don’t let him do too much.”

“I will, Mum.” Molly grabbed Arthur’s hand, turned back and winked at Harry and they left.

“Hermione, why don’t we go down and get some breakfast. I’m famished!” exclaimed Ron.

“Of course you are, Ron,” she said with a sigh. She walked over to him, hooked her arm through his and they left as well.

Ginny lay down again and snuggled in with Harry. “Alone at last,” she purred.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Gin? You’re not tired, are you?”

“I feel fine. Once I recovered, I slept really well. I always do with you.”

“Gin, believe me, I’m glad you did, but how exactly did you appear at my side in that alley?”

“Well, I was in the Three Broomsticks, enjoying a Butterbeer with Demelza and Colin, when I heard in my mind, ‘Ginny,’ a pause, then, ‘Apparate to me,’ so I did.”

Harry’s face was filled with confusion. “But how did you? There must have been anti-Apparation wards, because I couldn’t Disapparate out of there. Are there just one way wards, ones that don’t allow you to Apparate out but still allow you to Apparate in?”

Ginny thought for a moment. “I’ve never heard of wards like that. Maybe we can ask Hermione or Professor Dumbledore.”

Madam Pomfrey came in at that moment. “Miss Weasley, out of that bed! I’ll have none of that in my hospital wing now that Mr Potter is better. Mr Potter, if you feel up to it, I think you can leave as well. Your clothes are right here.”

“I’ll wait outside the curtain for you, Harry,” said Ginny as she jumped out of the bed.

As soon as she left, Harry sat up and quickly slid out of bed. Grabbing his pile of clothes, he frantically checked the pockets of his trousers and let out a sigh of relief: the ring box was still there. He had put it there earlier in the day so that he would be ready when Ginny returned from Hogsmeade, and had a moment of panic that it might have fallen out in the battle or its aftermath. He dressed quickly, noticing that his clothes, while they covered him, they were covered with holes and burn marks. He pulled back the curtain and linked arms with Ginny as they left the hospital wing. As they were leaving, they noticed Neville lying in a bed. “Hey, Neville, are you alright?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, just a little sore from the Cruciatus Curse I received yesterday. Madam Pomfrey says she’ll let me out after breakfast.”

“Good to hear.”

“I want to thank both of you for saving me yesterday.” Neville looked down at his hands and said quietly, “I was obviously in over my head.”

“No problem, Neville. Remember that those were experienced Death Eaters and you haven’t even finished school yet. There is no shame in being defeated by someone of that calibre,” said Ginny.

Neville mumbled back, “If you say so,” obviously not believing what Ginny had said.

“Feel better and get out of here. See you later today, Neville,” said Harry. Turning to his girlfriend as they closed the door to the hospital wing, Harry added, “You want to grab some breakfast, too, Gin?”

Ginny pulled her arm from Harry’s and stood in front of him. “I have a question for you before we go eat. How do you really feel? Are you really alright, or are you just saying that to get away from Madam Pomfrey?”

Harry, puzzled, responded, “I feel fine. Really I do.”

She pulled her wand out and pointed it at Harry. “Well, then Rhinorrhea chiroptera!”

Suddenly, Harry’s nose exploded in pain as Ginny’s Bat Bogey Hex hit him at full power. Large, green, bat-shaped bogeys flew out of his nose and attacked him, surrounding him in flying creatures. Harry put one hand on his nose and used the other to swat at them, pleading, “Ginny, please, call dem off!”

After about a minute, Ginny said, “Finite Incantatem” and the effects of the hex disappeared. “Serves you right.”

Still holding his nose, Harry asked “What did I do to deserve dat?”

Ginny stood, one hand on her hip, the other wagging at Harry’s face. “How dare you, Harry James Potter?! How could you go to Hogsmeade when you knew you were going to be attacked by Death Eaters?!” Her face turned downward and she added in a much lower volume. “You promised not to go. You promised me you wouldn’t go. How could you break your word?”

The look of pain in Ginny’s eyes tore at Harry. “I’m sorry, Ginny, but it wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter.” He could feel Ginny’s confusion as he continued. “Malfoy stunned me in the hallway and he used his house-elf to bring me to an empty storefront. He knew about the attack and planned to turn me over to Voldemort to get on his good side.”

The look on Ginny’s face rapidly changed from confused to one of sympathy. Ginny put her hands on his cheeks and kissed his nose. “I’m sorry for doubting you, Harry. I should have known you wouldn’t get into trouble on purpose. How’s your nose? Can you forgive me?” giving him another kiss on the nose.

“It’s better. I suppose we can come up with something to make it up to me,” he said with a grin, pulling her closer and kissing her back. “But first, we should get breakfast; I’m hungry.”

As they walked, Ginny looked up at him and asked, “Harry, did I hear you call my mother ‘Molly’ earlier?” She had the same quizzical look on her face as earlier. “And what was she whispering to you as she left? And I saw that wink, too. What is going on between the two of you?”

Harry felt his face warm. “I was hoping you missed that slip up, but I should have known you would notice.”

“Since when have you been calling her Molly? It’s not like you’ve seen them since Christmas holiday. You’re not having an affair with my mum behind my back now, are you?” she asked, with a quirk of a smile on her face.

Harry turned even redder, trying to figure out how to get out of this, but gave up. Looks like it’s time for plan C, he thought. “Well, actually, I did see them this week. I had something to ask them and it was during that conversation that she asked me to call her Molly.”

“What did you have to ask them?”

Harry stopped and pulled her into an empty classroom. “This isn’t the way that I planned it, but I don’t think I can wait any longer. I asked them for their blessing.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out the small box, and knelt down on one knee. “Ginevra Molly Weasley, I love you with all my heart. I feel like I suddenly came alive when I saw you at King’s Cross last summer. I can’t imagine my life without you and I want to spend the rest of it making you as happy as I am when I am with you. Will you marry me?” He opened the box, revealing the engagement ring.

Ginny had tears in her eyes as she looked down at him. “You aren’t doing this just because of what Hermione told us on Tuesday, are you? Just so we can ‘consummate our relationship’?”

“No. As a matter of fact, I had already asked your parents for their blessing earlier that day.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want to marry you just because of what Hermione found out in her books.”

“Soul bond or no Soul Bond, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He paused for a moment, and then asked, “Are you going to give me an answer?”

Ginny, realizing that she hadn’t said yes yet, smiled a grin that went from ear to ear and leaped into his arms, causing them both to fall to the floor. “Of course, I will marry you! Yes! Yes! A thousand times, yes!” she cried, smothering his face in kisses.

At that moment, Professor McGonagall threw open the door and said, “Mr Potter! Miss Weasley! A classroom is not the appropriate place for this type of activity. Actually, nowhere in Hogwarts is that activity appropriate!”

They separated quickly, their faces burning, but Ginny jumped up and said, “But Professor, Harry just proposed!” She picked up the ring box that had fallen to the ground when she had tackled Harry and showed it to her.

Professor McGonagall’s jaw fell open and then she smiled. “Congratulations, you two! However, classrooms are not to be used for rolling around in, even by engaged couples.” She hugged both of them and then said, “Just see that I don’t catch you like this again. Certainly, there are other places you could find that would give you a little more privacy.” She winked at them and left.

Harry reached over and took the box from Ginny and removed the ring. “May I put this on your finger?”

Ginny held out her hand, fresh tears starting to fall, as Harry slipped the ring on her hand. She held it up in the light to study it. “Harry, it’s beautiful! It looks like an antique. Where did you find it?”

“In my family vault. This is the ring James gave Lily. Professor Lupin says that it has been in my family for generations.”

Ginny, her face beaming, said, “I love it. Thank you!” Harry and Ginny walked hand in hand to the Great Hall and found that it was mostly deserted, it still being early on a Sunday morning. They sat down across from Hermione and Ron. Ron, of course, was focused on his breakfast, while Hermione had not eaten much because she was obviously thinking about something. When they sat down, Ginny and Harry continued to hold hands, but they kept their hands on the table and Ginny made sure her hand was on top so that the ring could be seen easily, if either of their friends had paid attention at all. When neither Ron nor Hermione noticed, Harry looked at Ginny and shrugged his shoulders with a bemused smirk on his face.

Before they had a chance to eat much, Hermione started. “Harry, I’m glad you’re here. Tell us more about what happened yesterday. Why did you go to Hogsmeade when you said that you were going to stay here?”

Professor Dumbledore walked up at this moment and said, “I would like to know this as well, Harry.” He waved his wand and they were surrounded by a shimmering bubble, giving them some privacy. “Harry, why were you in Hogsmeade?”

“I didn’t plan to go. You see, I was walking from the library to the kitchens to get a snack and was Stunned from behind. When I came to, I was in an abandoned store in Hogsmeade. I had been bound hand and foot and Malfoy was standing over me. He had ordered his house-elf to Apparate me there.”

Dumbledore nodded. “I wondered whether Mr Malfoy had anything to do with the attack yesterday. He is the only student we were unable to account for after the battle.”

“Well, anyway, what happened in Hogsmeade, Harry?” asked Hermione.

“Malfoy told me that he had kidnapped me so that he could give me to Voldemort. When the Death Eaters arrived, he left me alone, forgetting I can do wandless magic.”

“Stupid git! How many times has he seen you do wandless magic?” asked Ron.

Harry chuckled. “Exactly what I thought at the time. I freed myself from my bonds, but couldn’t Apparate out of the building. I went into the alley and had tried to Apparate again so I could get back to school but couldn’t, when the Death Eaters that Hermione saw in her vision popped in and I had to start fighting them. I was able to hold them off long enough for Ginny to get there to help me.”

“So that’s where you went suddenly while we were at the Three Broomsticks,” said Hermione to Ginny. “How did you know that he needed help?”

“I just heard Harry’s voice in my head. I heard, ‘Ginny, Apparate to me.’ So I did.”

“Ah, I see. Your Soul Bond,” said Dumbledore.

“And when she arrived, we took advantage of our Soul Bond and Ginny blasted our way out of the alley,” continued Harry.

“Literally,” added Ginny with a smirk.

“We then battled several other Death Eaters . . .”

“If you can call it battled. They didn’t stand much of a chance against us when we are in contact with each other,” interjected Ginny.

“Professor,” interrupted Hermione, “I thought there were going to be extra Aurors to protect the students in Hogsmeade. Where were they?”

The Headmaster shook his head. “There was another Death Eater attack on some Muggles near London. When news of that attack arrived, the Aurors went there, thinking that dealing with a known attack had higher priority than a predicted one. We now know that the other attack was just a decoy for the real attack on Hogsmeade,” explained Dumbledore. “Continue, Mr Potter.”

“We made our way up the road to the Three Broomsticks, when out of nowhere, Voldemort Apparated right in front of us. He started casting hexes and curses at us, but we were able to block anything he sent at us.” He squeezed Ginny’s hand and smiled at her before continuing. “This enraged him. Then he tried to do Legilimency on me, but I was able to block him. It’s always easier when I am in contact with Ginny.” He paused and looked over at her and took a deep breath. “Then he looked at Ginny and I am guessing that he invaded her mind.”

“So that’s what happened,” said Ginny. “All I remember is the feeling like my head was going to explode and then everything went black.”

“I thought Legilimency was generally too slow to use in fights, Professor. How do you think he was able to penetrate Ginny’s mind so easily?” asked Hermione.

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, thinking. “I am not sure, but perhaps because he possessed her during her first year. It would make sense if her defences were weakened because of their past connection.”

Ginny shuddered and Harry put his arm around her and he continued. “I think Voldemort learned about our Soul Bond. At a minimum, he learned that we are much more powerful when we are in contact, because he said that he would have to separate us. He then threw a powerful Blasting Curse at the road below us, causing a huge hole to form under our feet. After Ginny collapsed I grabbed her and held on while I was falling to the bottom of the hole. I twisted at the last minute so that I would take the brunt of the impact and prevent Ginny from being hurt worse. I remember feeling some ribs crack as I hit and couldn’t move.

“I looked up at Voldemort as he peered over the edge. Then, we both heard pops of Apparation, which must have been the Aurors returning from London, and Voldemort left. The last thing I remember before blacking out was Tonks greeting me with a ‘Wotcher, Harry,’ as if she was just walking into the Burrow.”

That brought a few snickers from Ginny and Ron as Dumbledore asked, “So, what have we learned from the last twenty four hours?”

Hermione jumped in first, to no one’s surprise. “First, it looks like even though we tried to change it, my visions are going to happen as I see them despite our attempts at intervening.”

Dumbledore nodded. “I think you are probably correct, Miss Granger.”

“Voldemort is getting stronger, but the power from the Soul Bond between Ginny and me puts us fairly close to him,” said Harry.

“Voldemort also probably knows about our link, and he is going to do his best to keep us apart in future battles,” added Ginny.

“Malfoy is a stupid arse!” said Ron.

“Well, we didn’t really learn that yesterday, it was just confirmed,” joked Harry. After a pause for everyone to chuckle, he added, “Voldemort also knows that I can defend myself from Legilimency, but he can use it on Ginny.”

“Yes,” said the Headmaster. “I think that is something we need to remedy. With the events of yesterday, I propose a change to your lessons with Mr Lupin. I know he worked with the two of you on Apparation, but perhaps we should bring Miss Weasley in on some more of your tutoring. Certainly, she needs to learn Occlumency, but I also think we need to be more actively training the two of you to fight together and further probe the limits of the Soul Bond. I will talk to Remus about bringing in some other tutors to help with this training.”

“Oh, darn, I’ll have to spend more time with Ginny. I don’t know if I can handle that,” said Harry with a twinkle in his eyes as he squeezed Ginny’s shoulders.

“You better get used to it, Potter, especially after what you asked me this morning.”

Seeing the puzzled looks on everyone’s faces, Ginny held her left hand out for them to see. Hermione’s eyes widened, she squealed, and then she hugged Ginny. Ron was a little slower on the uptake. “Harry, don’t you think that’s too nice a ring to give Ginny for Valentine’s Day? Why, it almost looks like an engagement … You didn’t! You didn’t ask my baby sister to get married, did you?”

“Indeed I did, Ron, and she agreed,” replied Harry with a huge smile on his face.

“Mum and Dad are going to be gobsmacked when they hear!”

“They already know. I asked for their blessing last week.”

“When did he ask you?” Hermione asked Ginny, still staring at the ring.

“This morning on the way from the hospital wing to breakfast.”

“Not the most romantic proposal, but all my plans kept getting blocked,” said Harry with a touch of frustration in his voice.

“What plans were those, love?” asked Ginny.

“I originally had a private room reserved at the Three Broomsticks for yesterday afternoon. Madam Rosmerta was going to decorate it for us with candles and flowers and I had a special meal ordered, but Hermione’s vision put a kibosh on that.

“Then I was going to take you to the Room of Requirement after you came back from Hogsmeade for a quiet dinner for two, but we were both in the hospital wing. Then this morning, when you picked up on my mistake, I decided that I couldn’t wait for the perfect time.”

“What mistake?” asked Hermione.

Harry blushed a little before answering. “This morning, I called Mrs Weasley ‘Molly.’ She asked me to call her that when I asked their blessing earlier this week.”

“Wow, welcome to the family, mate,” said Ron. “Next thing you know you’ll have hand on our clock.”

Harry blushed a little more and said, “We’ll have to wait and see on that one, Ron,” winking at Ginny.

“Professor, we do have another question,” said Harry. “When I was in that alley, I was unable to Disapparate, but Ginny still was able to Apparate to me. Are there one way anti-Apparation wards that will only allow one to Apparate in, but not out?”

Dumbledore considered this for a moment. “I have never heard of such a ward; it would be useful if it was possible. Professor Flitwick would be the expert on that. Perhaps we could ask him.”

“Perhaps it has to do with your bond,” suggested Hermione. “Most people can’t Apparate to a person; maybe she was able to Apparate in because she was Apparating to you instead of a place. When you tried to Apparate, Harry, where were you trying to go?”

Harry thought for a moment. “I was trying to go to the Hogwarts gates.”

“Maybe we should try an experiment. Let’s go to one of the classrooms,” suggested Dumbledore. They all arose and left the Great Hall and walked to one of hallways with classrooms. At the first one, he said, “Mr Potter, I want you to go to the classroom across the hallway. Give us a few moments to get settled in this classroom, and then focus on sensing where Ginny is and attempt to Apparate to her.”

As Harry did as the Headmaster instructed, Ginny said, “But Professor, everyone knows that you can’t Apparate in Hogwarts.”

Ron added under his breath, “Everyone knows because Hermione says it all the time.”

Hermione elbowed him in the side before adding, “Perhaps your Soul Bond will allow you to overcome that. It would explain why Harry wasn’t able to Apparate out of that alley, but you were able to Apparate in.” Their conversation was suddenly shortened by Harry Apparating in next to Ginny, to everyone’s amazement.

Ron started chuckling as he put his arm around Hermione, “I guess even you can be wrong occasionally, dear.” Hermione returned a glare before saying, “Now, Harry, try to Apparate back to where you came from.”

Harry concentrated for a moment. “I can’t, even though I am doing the same thing as before.”

“Now, Miss Weasley, why don’t we repeat the experiment with you; would you please go across the corridor and Apparate to Mr Potter?” said the Headmaster.

Ginny was able to Apparate to Harry just as easily as he was to her. Harry put his arm around her and whispered, “Knowing that we can do this might come in handy,” with a mischievous grin on his face, causing her to blush. Aloud he added, “Let’s get back to the Great Hall; I didn’t get much of a chance to eat anything before I explained about Saturday, and I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast yesterday, so I’m just a little hungry.”

When they returned to the Great Hall, the tables had started to fill up as more students were arriving for breakfast. Ginny and Harry refilled their plates as their original food had cooled. As they were enjoying some eggs and scones, the post owls arrived and one dropped The Daily Prophet in front of Hermione. After paying the owl, she opened it and began reading, but gasped shortly after she started.

“What is it, Hermione?” asked Ginny.

“Rita Skeeter is at it again. I don’t know if you should read this Harry; it’s just going to upset you.”

Harry sighed. “Might as well get this over with. Let me see it, Hermione.”

Hogsmeade Attacked!

You-Know-Who, Potter Involved

By Rita Skeeter

Saturday afternoon in the village of Hogsmeade was supposed to be a quiet weekend in which Hogwarts students could visit, shop, and enjoy a Butterbeer. But it became a battle scene reminiscent of the Wizarding War as at least a dozen Death Eaters struck yet another blow against the Ministry. Eyewitnesses also reported seeing He-Who-Must-Not-Be Named. While there was some damage to the buildings, fortunately only a few students sustained minor injuries. According to sources inside the school, the students who were treated in the Hospital Wing were all expected to be released by this morning.

The events do raise some questions. For some reason, Aurors, who had been patrolling the Hogsmeade streets in the morning, were called away shortly before the Death Eaters Apparated in. The Ministry states that the Aurors were sent to an attack on Muggles. It is fortunate that students were able to fight off the Death Eaters until Aurors returned. Because of their late arrival, most of the Death Eaters were able to escape entrapment. Why did the Ministry order the change in deployment? Do they think that protecting Muggles is more important than our children?

While no students were seriously injured, there was a Ministry official who was killed. Walden McNair, an employee of Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, was found dead from head and neck injuries suffered during the battle. According to one source, McNair was not killed by Death Eaters, but by Harry Potter. While most reports say that he was one of the students that was fighting the Death Eaters, one has to wonder about the Boy-Who-Lived. We know that he was involved in the resurrection of You-Know-Who. Was he really fighting Death Eaters, or was he truly assisting the Death Eaters, especially since the only casualty was a Ministry employee who died at his hands? Even though he was supposedly battling Death Eaters, notice that none of them were actually captured. Whose side is the Mr Potter really on?

Harry took the paper, reading with a sceptical expression on his face. When he arrived at the third paragraph, he turned white, then, a few seconds later he threw the paper down and ran out of the room.

Ginny quickly read the article, looked up at Hermione, who was shaking her head in disbelief, and then ran after Harry. As soon as she was out of sight of other students, she concentrated on where he was and Apparated to him. She didn’t see him immediately as she looked around, recognizing that she must be in a boys’ loo. It was dark, so she felt for him again, finding him in one of the stalls, sitting on one of the toilets with his face in his hands and his chest heaving. She knocked on the stall door to let him know she was there.

“Go away, Ginny. I want to be alone. I put locking charms on the door for a reason.”

“Locking charms aren’t going to work against me, Potter, now that we know we can Apparate to each other.”

“I told you that I want to be alone,” he said, frustration growing in his voice.

She knelt down so that she was even with him. “Harry, it’s alright,” putting a hand on his knee. “No one believes what that Skeeter bint writes.”

Harry raised his face towards hers, and she could see tears flowing down his cheeks. “But, Ginny, I killed a man yesterday. How can you say, ‘It’s alright?’ It will never be alright. He’s dead. I am a murderer.”

“Harry, we talked about this at Christmas. We are in a war and people are going to die. What you did yesterday was in self-defence. He was trying to kill us and we were protecting Neville. You are not a murderer.”

“How can you even stand to be with me? Aren’t you disgusted at me?”

Ginny took Harry’s hands in hers and stared into his eyes. Concentrating on her feelings for him, she pushed them to him with all of her magic. Harry’s eyes opened wide. “Harry, do you feel that?” When he nodded, she continued. “That is what I feel for you. Pride, admiration, awe, physical attraction, love. No disgust, no revulsion, no disappointment, no fear. You need to get it through your thick head that nothing you do will drive me away. I am with you and for you through everything. We can get through anything as long as we do it together. Do I make myself clear?”

Harry nodded and then pulled her up and held on to her tightly as he continued to sob. After a few minutes he calmed down some.

“Harry, as much as I like holding you, this is not exactly the most romantic location. Could we go somewhere else?” asked Ginny, a grin on her face.

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go to the Room of Requirement. I don’t think I want to face anyone just yet.”

“That’s exactly what I was going to suggest.” As they left the bathroom, Ginny said, “Harry, why don’t you go up to the Room of Requirement and get it configured how you want. I’ll go back to the dorms and get our books, parchment, quills, everything we will need to do our homework.”

Harry smiled at her forethought and kindness. “That’s a great idea. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Ginny turned toward the Gryffindor tower and walked quickly through the corridors. As she entered through the portrait hole, Hermione almost jumped on her, Ron right behind her. “Where’s Harry? Is he okay?” Hermione asked insistently.

“He is struggling, but I think, with time, he’ll recover. He just doesn’t want to see anyone right now. Ron, can you help me gather what Harry needs to do his homework this afternoon?” Together the two siblings went up to the boys’ dorm and filled Harry’s rucksack with all his supplies before Ginny went to her own room to do the same for her.

Saddled with two full rucksacks, Ginny left the common room and looked for a deserted room. Once inside, she concentrated on Harry’s location and Apparated to him. Harry jumped when he heard her pop, but quickly pulled her into a hug. “You were right,” said Ginny, with a raised eyebrow. “Knowing that we can Apparate to each other in Hogwarts is going to come in handy,” before kissing him.

The couple spent the day revising and doing their homework, although they did take a few breaks. Ginny went to the kitchens to retrieve them some lunch since Harry did not want to eat in the Great Hall.

Later that afternoon, Ginny could sense that Harry had calmed down enough to have what she considered an essential follow-up to their conversation in the loo that morning. “Harry, can we talk a little more about what happened yesterday?”

Harry looked up from his essay. “I guess,” he said hesitantly.

Ginny moved her chair closer to his and put her hand on his arm. “When we were helping Neville, did you see what curses that Death Eater, McNair, was casting at us?”

Harry thought for a moment. “I know there were at least two Cutting Curses. Everything happened so fast I’m not sure what else he threw.”

Ginny took a deep breath, knowing what reaction her next comment would likely receive. “What would have happened had one of those curses hit me, say in the neck? How would you have reacted?”

She could feel his anger erupt as he growled, “I would have made him pay!”

She sent calming waves to him through their Bond. “But that didn’t happen, did it? Our shield held. Now, what spell did you cast at him?”

Expelliarmus,” he replied.

“Is that normally a lethal spell?”

“No,” replied sheepishly.

“Were you trying to kill him when you cast it, or even injure him?”

“Of course not. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“So, let me summarize. This Death Eater cast several curses designed to cause major injury, if not death, obviously meaning for one us of to be severely wounded. You cast a spell that is taught to second year students that ordinarily does not cause injury, but this time did, despite the fact that you weren’t trying to hurt him. As you just said, you wanted to keep your girlfriend, your soon-to-be-fiancée,” she added with a smirk, “safe. Is everything I said correct?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to get you to realize?” she asked, looking into his eyes resolutely.

Harry nodded. “That what I did was in self-defence, not murder.”

“Exactly. I see it as the same as your holding me away from the ground as we landed in the hole Voldemort created. You were saving my life both times.” She let that sink in for a moment before asking, “Do you remember our conversation after Tom returned about us being in a war?”

When Harry nodded, she continued. “That still is true. Yesterday was just the next battle. And, unfortunately, McNair is not the last person that is going to die at one of our hands. For us to win, we are going to have to kill at least one more person, but maybe more. I don’t like it, but it’s our reality right now.”

Harry dropped his head a little. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Ginny arose and sat down in Harry’s lap, holding him tightly. After several minutes she pulled back and said, “It’s dinner time. Do you want me to get our meals from the kitchen again?”

Harry thought for a moment. “No, let’s go to eat with everyone else. I’m not sure that I want to, but putting it off isn’t going to make it any easier.”

As they neared the Great Hall, Ginny could sense Harry’s apprehension, and stopped him before they entered. “Harry, I know this is going to be hard, but you’ve been through this before. Remember how everyone stared and were murmuring about you when we came back to school after Christmas? This is going to be the same. You made it through that, and you can do it again. Most importantly, I am here for you, regardless of what happens. We can get through this, together.”

Harry looked at her, lovingly, and raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Together,” he whispered to her. He then took a deep breath, stood up straight, grabbed the door handle, and pulled. As they entered, all eyes turned toward them. They looked at each other and, in unison, said, “Together.”

Back to index


Chapter 30: Rats!

Author's Notes: Thanks again to Arnel for her beta work. She was especially helpful for the ending for this chapter which ended abruptly in the original version.


Rats!

Dumbledore arranged for Ginny to not have to go to History of Magic so that she could attend tutoring with Harry and Remus. At the appointed time, the newly engaged couple walked hand in hand to the classroom Harry and Remus used for their weekly tutoring sessions on that next Tuesday afternoon. When they entered they saw that Remus was not alone, but was accompanied by Tonks.

Remus started the session by saying, “Today I want to assess what the two of you can do together. I have a good feeling of what Harry can do, and he’s told me that when you are touching, your powers are much stronger, but I would like to see it for myself. To help me, I asked Tonks to come as well. Let’s start with a simple Shield Spell.”

Harry and Ginny stood up and held hands and then Harry said, “Protego! ” The shield appeared, similar to the one he made on the Hogwarts Express platform. It was translucent and Remus and Tonks looked shimmery through it. Remus and Tonks then attacked the shield with multiple spells and hexes, but nothing could get through it. “Now let’s see what happens if Ginny does the spell,” suggested Remus. The results were the same; it didn’t matter which one of them did the magic.

“Ok, now let’s try some offensive spells. Let’s start with Expelliarmus. Harry, try to Disarm Tonks while holding hands with Ginny.”

“Tonks, I apologize in advance,” said Harry.

“Me, too,” said Ginny.

“Whatever for?” asked Tonks.

“You’ll see,” replied Ginny with a smirk.

Tonks readied herself for an attack and put up a shield, but when Harry said “Expelliarmus” quietly, her shield disintegrated, her wand flew into Harry’s hand, and she was thrown across the room until she hit the wall, knocking her out.

Remus walked over and awoke Tonks quickly.

“I warned you,” said Harry. “That was as little power as I could put behind it. We’ve never tried to do it full power; we’re afraid of what it could do.”

“I see that we are going to have to do some modifications of our training and our environment to really see what power you two have together,” said Remus. “Harry, why don’t you work with Tonks on duelling while I work with Ginny on Occlumency?”

After about an hour, a sweaty Harry came back to the classroom where Remus and Ginny were working to see how things were going. Tonks stuck her head in the room to say good bye as she had to get back to work.

Harry didn’t need his connection to Ginny to tell that she was frustrated as it was written all over her face. “It is really exasperating,” she said. “I can’t seem to even start to fight off Remus’ attacks.”

“It’s not easy, Gin,” Harry said as he gently rubbed her shoulders. “It took me quite a while before I could do it, too.” Harry paused for a few seconds, and then a smile came on his face. “Hey, Remus, can we try something?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“My Occlumency is much stronger when I am in contact with Ginny. Hers probably will be, too. Can she try it again holding my hand? Perhaps if she can do it with me then she can learn to do it on her own.”

“Great idea, Harry,” said Remus. “Let’s try it.”

Harry sat down next to Ginny and grabbed her hand. He smiled at her and tried to send all of his confidence at her through their Bond. “You can do this,” he whispered.

Ginny’s eyes opened wide, surprised at the feelings she was getting from him. “If you think so,” she whispered back.

Remus asked, “Ready?” When she nodded, he said, “Remember, try to relax your mind and then as I enter, try to build a wall to keep me out. Legilimens!

This time as Remus entered her mind, she was able to start building a wall that pushed him out temporarily, but after a few seconds the wall crashed open and Remus was able to invade again. “Good job, Ginny! That was much better. I think we will have to continue to use Harry’s help until you get better at it. How about calling it quits for the day, since you’re both tired.”

Ginny started to get up, but Harry held onto her hand and pulled her back down into his lap. “Oh, we’re not ready to leave yet,” he said with a smile. “It’s part of our routine to finish each lesson with a story from the Marauders. What do you want to tell us about today?”

“With the two of you getting engaged, congratulations, by the way. Because of your engagement, I brought some pictures of your parents’ wedding that I thought you would like to see.”

“That sounds great,” said Ginny, obviously excited. “What did Lily’s dress look like?”

Remus shuffled through his photos until he found one showing Lily in her wedding robes. “Oh, Harry, she was beautiful!” Ginny gushed.

“Not as beautiful as you will be,” he whispered in her ear, causing her to blush.

Remus then showed the two of them a picture of Sirius and Remus helping James to get ready, sharing with them how nervous James was. “He was sure that she was going to come to her senses all of a sudden and realize what a prat he was. It took everything we had to calm him down enough to get ready. He was pacing back and forth, sweating, muttering under his breath. He was a basket case,” Remus said with a chuckle. “But when he saw her walking down the aisle, he just stared at her and became all misty. Sirius told me later that he muttered, ‘What did I do to deserve that vision of loveliness?’”

Remus then took out some pictures taken at the reception. “The wedding was small, just family and a few friends, because of the war. Harry, here’s a picture of your parents and both sets of grandparents. All four of your grandparents died soon after. James’ parents died of dragon pox and Lily’s parents died in a car crash a few months before you were born, Harry.”

“Who’s that woman?” Harry asked, pointing at a thin blonde woman. “She’s in several of the pictures for a moment and then leaves, looking like she smelled something rancid.”

Remus chuckled. “That’s Lily’s sister, Petunia. Apparently the two sisters were close, at least until Lily discovered that she was a witch and went off to Hogwarts. She even wrote a letter to Dumbledore, begging him to let her attend also, even though she was a Muggle.” Ginny giggled at that idea. “When he wouldn’t let her come, according to Lily, Petunia started hating all things magical. Lily was surprised that she even came to the wedding, because they had little contact after she left school. She came alone; her husband never wanted anything to do with Lily and James after James showed him up when they first met.”

Harry considered this news. “What happened to her? She obviously wasn’t alive when my parents were killed, or the magic my mother used would have sent me to her instead of to my parents in America.”

“I am guessing that is what Lily’s intention was, to send you to her sister to keep you safe from Voldemort, at least temporarily. I imagine that she assumed that Sirius would pick you up and raise you.”

A look of confusion appeared on Harry’s and Ginny’s face. “Sirius? Why would Sirius Black raise me?” asked Harry.

“I guess I haven’t told you. Sirius Black is your godfather, so, if your parents died, he would have the responsibility to raise you.”

The news stunned Harry, and he leaned back in his chair. After a few moments, he said, “Again it comes back to how could he have betrayed my parents like he did. They trusted him enough to make him their Secret-Keeper, enough to entrust me to his care.” Harry could feel his anger rising, but Ginny sent soothing thoughts to him as she lay her head in the crook of his neck and placed a gentle kiss on his collar bone.

Harry took a deep breath and his pulse slowed. “Thanks, Gin,” he whispered. “Remus, back to my original question. What happened to my aunt? Why didn’t I go to her when I was struck by Voldemort?”

Remus bowed his head and shook it. “It’s a tragic story. We didn’t know it at the time, but just a few days before your parents were attacked by Voldemort, your aunt had an argument with her husband, and he lost his temper. He beat her so severely that she died from her injuries. Then, in his rage, he also killed their son. He covered it up, saying that she had been attacked by a burglar who had broken into the house. But at her autopsy, it was discovered that she had multiple fractures at various stages of healing, as well as scars all over her body that were unseen under her clothes. That made the police suspicious, and when they investigated the husband’s story more closely, they discovered the truth. He was sent to prison for life for the two murders.” He paused for a moment. “I didn’t like Petunia, but she certainly didn’t deserve to be abused and eventually killed by her husband. I think life in prison is too lenient a punishment for the bastard.” Both Harry and Ginny were surprised by the anger in Remus’ voice.

Remus gathered himself and then turned back to his pile of photos. “Now, on to some happier memories.” Remus pulled out another photo, handing it to Harry, and said, “And here are the Marauders at the reception.” Harry gasped suddenly.

As Remus and Ginny looked at him, he asked, “Who is that?” pointing at the shorter man in the group.

“That’s Wormtail, of course. Oh, I guess I haven’t shown you any pictures of him yet, have I?”

“No, you haven’t. His first name was Peter, right? Was his last name Pettigrew?”

“Right, Harry,” said Remus, obviously confused.

“And you say he was killed by Sirius the night after my parents were killed?” asked Harry, with anger growing in his voice.

“Right, again. What’s wrong, Harry? Why are you getting angry?”

“Because Sirius didn’t kill him. He’s still alive!”

“What do you mean?”

“Pettigrew was Voldemort’s assistant when he regained his body. He was the one who cut off his hand and stabbed me for my blood!”

Remus tried to calm him down. “You must be mistaken, Harry. Peter is dead.”

“Did they ever find a body?” asked Harry.

“No, all that was left was a finger; the rest of his body was destroyed in the explosion.”

Harry thought for a moment. “You said he was a rat in his Animagus form. Could he have cut off his finger and then changed to a rat to escape the explosion?”

Remus considered that theory. “I guess that’s possible, but why wouldn’t he have just changed back afterwards if he was still alive?”

“Because he wanted Sirius to stay in Azkaban for killing him. If he reappeared as Pettigrew then that might reopen Sirius’ case.”

“But why wouldn’t he want Sirius to be free?” asked Remus. “He was one of Sirius’ friends.”

“Maybe Sirius didn’t do everything he was accused of,” said Harry, in a voice barely above a whisper. “We were just talking about how we couldn’t understand how Sirius could betray my parents,” he explained. “Maybe someone else did, like Pettigrew.”

Ginny had been just trying to follow the conversation when an idea struck her. “Wait, you said that Pettigrew may have cut off his finger before he turned into a rat. And that he also cut off his hand in Voldemort’s rebirth. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Harry and Remus both looked at Ginny with confused looks on their faces. She muttered under her breath as she worked out her thoughts in her brain. “Percy said he received him when he was five, so the time frame fits. And he was in Ron’s room before Christmas.”

“Ginny, what are you thinking? We’re not following you,” said Harry.

“Peter Pettigrew is Scabbers! He’s been hiding out with our family since the end of the first Wizarding War!” At the incredulous looks on Harry’s and Remus’ faces, she continued. “You see, Percy acquired him as a pet when he was five or in 1981, and he was always missing a toe on one of his forelegs. And when he returned after Christmas, he just had a stump of a leg!”

Ginny jumped up off of Harry’s lap as she had another idea. She looked into his eyes. “Remember Harry, when we went up to Ron’s room the day we got back to the Burrow before Christmas. You took off your ring for a few minutes. Scabbers was in Ron’s room that day! He would have seen your real appearance. Then he disappeared for a few days. That’s when he must have told Voldemort about who you were. Then he returned the day after you were kidnapped. Don’t you see? It all fits!”

“And remember that headache I got the next day when I thought I heard laughter. That must have been when Wormtail told Voldemort about me! You’re right; it does fit! You’re a genius, Ginny!” He jumped out of his chair, lifting Ginny up, spinning her around and giving her a big kiss.

“Calm down, you two,” said Remus. “I don’t know; this all sounds a little far-fetched. Why would Peter want to fake his death and be willing to live as a rat for 16 years?” asked Remus.

“Like I said earlier, maybe Sirius didn’t do everything he is accused of. He certainly didn’t kill Peter, because I know that he is the man that helped Voldemort,” said Harry.

“But Sirius had to be the one who betrayed James and Lily; he was the Secret Keeper, and only he could reveal the location of where they were hiding,” replied Remus.

Ginny and Harry thought for a moment. “Hmm. I don’t have an answer for that one,” said Harry.

“But I know where we can get some of the answers: Scabbers,” said Ginny. “He should be up in Ron’s dorm in his cage. Remus, is there a spell that can reveal the true identity of an Animagus?”

“Yes, Aperio Humanis. Let’s go up to the dorm and see what we can learn.”

The three quickly left the classroom and went up to the Gryffindor boys’ dorm. As they hoped, Scabbers was sitting in his cage near Ron’s bed, snoozing. Ginny rattled his cage, waking him up. As Scabbers woke up and saw who was there, his eyes bulged when he saw Remus.

“Why, hello, Scabbers. Or should I say, Peter! I’d recognize you anywhere. Let’s get you out of this cage and have a talk,” said Remus. He opened the cage, pointed his wand and said, “Aperio Humanis.” causing the rat to change into the form of a man with a stump at his right hand. As soon as he did, Harry bound him in some ropes.

Remus’ face showed the rage that he was barely controlling as he held his wand in Peter’s face. “Tell me, Peter, the truth, what happened that night?”

The small man trembled. “Please, Remus, don’t hurt me. I’m your friend. Remember the fun times we had here at Hogwarts?”

“I do,” replied Remus, “and that is the only reason I have not killed you yet. Again, I ask, what happened that night?”

“I don’t know,” Pettigrew responded, shaking his head back and forth. “Sirius was the Secret Keeper, so he must have told Voldemort how to find James and Lily.”

“And when Sirius found you the next day?”

“Sirius was crazy; he said it was all my fault. I turned into a rat and escaped.”

“What about the finger they found?”

“Oh, that. I cut it off so when they found it people would believe I was dead.”

“After Sirius was captured, why didn’t you reveal that you were really alive?”

“I thought Sirius or maybe You-Know-Who would come after me. I thought the only way I could be safe was to stay in my rat form.”

Harry interjected, “If you really were afraid of Voldemort, then why were you helping him regain his body?”

Pettigrew turned toward Harry, a look of fear on his face. After a few moments of considering the question, he answered. “Um, er, I was under the Imperius Curse. Yeah, the Imperius Curse,” he said, nodding his head.

Harry took a step toward him, his wand pointed at Pettigrew’s face also. “Except the potion wouldn’t have worked,” he growled. “Part of the spell is ‘Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master. ’ Under the Imperius, your hand wouldn’t have been willingly given.”

“And we know that you were the one who told Voldemort about Harry’s existence. No one else knew that Brook Pelton was actually Harry Potter,” added Ginny, her wand also out and pointed at the cowering wizard.

Pettigrew started to stammer, stalling for time, when Ron came into the dorm suddenly and said “Oi, what’s going on here?”

Remus, Harry, and Ginny all turned at Ron’s entrance, giving Pettigrew a split second to change back into his rat form, escaping the ropes that bound him, and he scampered out the door, despite the injury to his forepaw. Ron, shocked, asked, “Scabbers?”

Remus yelled, “After him!”

Scabbers led them on a chase through the corridors, evading all hexes that were thrown at him. Harry had almost caught up to him when they approached the entrance doors. I have him now, thought Harry, but the doors opened as a class of third years came in from a Care of Magical Creatures class with Hagrid, and the rat slipped between their feet, causing several girls, and one boy, to scream, and he made it out of the castle. Harry, Remus, and Ginny were slowed up significantly trying to get around the scared third years. When they freed themselves from the students and made it outside, they searched for where Wormtail had gone, fearing they had lost him. Ginny shouted, “There, by Hagrid’s hut!”

They sprinted toward him, but they didn’t have much hope at catching him before he escaped into the Forbidden Forest. Just as Wormtail was starting to enter the trees, they heard a bark, and a large black dog jumped out and grabbed the rat’s nape in its mouth. Harry, Remus, and Ginny caught up a few seconds later, but when the dog saw them, it started to run off into the forest.

“Padfoot, wait!” yelled Remus, his hand out in front of him. “Don’t run off! We know you didn’t kill Peter! Please just stay there so we can talk.”

The dog stopped and waited for the trio to arrive. Ron pulled up behind them as well, very confused as to what was occurring. Harry grabbed Ginny’s hand to make sure they could combine their magic if it was necessary. When everyone was there and had regained their breath, Padfoot looked questioningly at Remus. Remus nodded and Padfoot threw the rat on the ground and Remus quickly said, “Aperio Humanis,” causing Wormtail to change back into Peter again. Remus then disarmed him and Harry surrounded him with a shield that encircled him to prevent him from escaping again in either his human or rat form. Padfoot then changed to his human form as well.

Ron pulled out his wand. “Sirius Black! Stupefy! ” But before the spell could reach him, Ginny threw a shield to protect Sirius.

“Ron, stop! He’s not what you think he is! He is not a murderer.” She pointed at Peter, saying, “This is Peter Pettigrew, the man Sirius supposedly killed. He is an Animagus and has been masquerading as Scabbers since the end of the first Wizarding War.”

Ron eyed Sirius suspiciously, keeping his wand on him. “Okay, Ginny, if you say so. I’ll not hex him for now, but I am keeping my eye on him; if he steps out of line, he’s going down.”

Sirius approached Harry slowly, staring at his face. “Oh, Harry,” he said before grabbing him into a hug, sobbing into Harry’s shoulder. “I thought you were dead. I never thought I would be able to see my godson again.”

Harry patted Sirius on the back, comforting him as he cried. When Sirius regained control, he pulled back and went over and hugged Remus as well. “Remus, I never thought I would be able to see you again either. I’ve missed you old friend.”

“I’ve missed you too, Padfoot,” slapping his friend on the back.

Remus pulled out of the hug and asked, “We are still a little confused, Sirius. What really happened that night?”

Sirius took a deep breath to collect his thoughts. “Actually the story began a few days before. Peter and I were talking about the Secret-Keeper idea and said that everyone would expect it to be me. He suggested perhaps someone else might be a better choice.”

He turned toward Peter in the shield bubble, his voice reflecting the anger that he felt. “In retrospect, he was obviously scheming to get me to suggest a change to James and Lily.” Sirius dropped his head, his voice lower. “To my great regret since then, I approached them the next day and suggested that they make Peter the Secret-Keeper for the cottage. We didn’t tell anyone, not even you, Remus, so that the secret couldn’t get out.” He put his hand on Remus’ shoulder. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but we knew there was a spy in the Order, and we thought it was you. I’m sorry for doubting you. I should have trusted you and let you know about the change.”

Sirius then turned back to the group. “When I heard about what had happened to James and Lily, I knew immediately that Peter must have betrayed them, so I went after him in a rage. I know what people say they saw, and I was crazed in anger, but when I found Peter and confronted him, he cut off his finger, caused the explosion that killed all those Muggles, and then ran off as a rat through the sewers. When he disappeared, I just collapsed there on the street.”

He dropped his head again. “I had failed James and Lily. I had failed Harry. And I had failed to get retribution for them. I hated myself at that moment. It was in that combination of mourning and self-loathing that the Aurors found me. I was almost incoherent in my grief. There was enough evidence against me that they took me straight to Azkaban after a short hearing, but I wasn’t allowed to give any testimony.”

He paused for a moment. “After I recovered a little, the only thing that kept me going was knowing that I was innocent, but there were times when I wished the Dementors would just Kiss me and end it.

“Then, when I saw Harry’s picture in the Daily Prophet after he was revealed to be alive, I also saw this boy here,” pointing at Ron, “with Wormtail on his shoulder. Knowing that Harry was alive but in Wormtail’s presence gave me enough motivation to transform to Padfoot and escape from Azkaban.

“I made my way to Ottery St. Catchpole, since that was the last place I knew where Wormtail was, but I couldn’t find him at the Weasley’s home.”

“So, you’re the one who tore up the Burrow!” exclaimed Ginny.

“Yeah, sorry about that. My mind still wasn’t in a right state after years of exposure to the Dementors. Since I couldn’t find Wormtail, I suspected that Peter might be at Hogwarts. So I came here to make sure I could protect Harry,” slapping his godson on the shoulder. “You can’t imagine how I felt that day when you found me out by the Quidditch pitch,” he said, his eyes misting up. He then turned to Remus and smiled. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Moony, though.”

“You gave me a shock too, Sirius,” smiled Remus. “Sorry for casting all those spells at you.”

Remus turned back to the imprisoned traitor, pointing his wand at him. “Peter, do you have anything to say in your defence? Do you want to contradict anything that Sirius just said?”

Peter’s head dropped to his chest. “No, everything he said is true. I was the one who betrayed James and Lily. But you have to understand,” he pleaded, “the Dark Lord threatened to kill my parents if I didn’t help him. And he promised me a place of importance in his regime, something I would never get in the Order. You all thought of me as a loser, a hanger-on, someone who was incapable of anything great,” the infuriation obvious in his voice. “Now, I have helped him return! I will be greatly rewarded.”

“I don’t think you will be receiving any reward where you are going. We are going to march you up to the castle and turn you over to Dumbledore so he can transfer you to the Ministry for trial,” said Remus. “Harry, can you levitate that bubble you have him in so we can take him to Dumbledore?”

“Sure, I can do that,” replied Harry. Ron led the way with Harry and Ginny close behind, holding hands, while Harry levitated Pettigrew. They were followed by Sirius and Remus, walking with their arms around each other in the growing darkness.

However, as they approached the castle, Snape appeared out of nowhere. He barred their way, saying, “Potter, Weasleys, what is the meaning of this? You students know better than to be out of the castle without a professor!” He paused when he saw there were others, but then his eyes opened wide when he realized who they were. “Black! Get down Potter! Stupefy!

As Snape shot the spell at Sirius, Harry threw up a shield to protect him, as Sirius did not have a wand. However, when he did this, he lost control of Wormtail, whose bubble shield fell to the ground and broke open. The instant this occurred, he changed back into a rat and scampered off.

Ginny and Ron took after him while Harry continued to protect Sirius, avoiding any offensive spells as he didn’t want to attack a professor. In reality, he did want to hex Snape, but he thought it would be better if he didn’t do anything to hurt him. Remus tried to get Snape’s attention, yelling at him to stop and asking him to let them explain, but he was unable to get Snape to cease firing spells at Sirius. In the end, he shot a Stunning Spell at Snape, rendering him unconscious.

Ginny and Ron returned, their heads down. Ginny said, “Sorry, but we lost him in the dark.”

“Now what?” asked Harry, lifting his palms upward. “I don’t suppose anyone is going to believe Sirius as long as we have no evidence that Pettigrew is still alive.”

“No, I don’t suppose they will,” said Remus. “First, I am going to Obliviate Severus so he won’t remember that he saw Sirius. Sirius, we need to get out of here and figure out where to hide you.”

Sirius replied, “That sounds like a plan.” He turned to Harry, “Now that I know that you are alive, I want to be a part of your life. That’s what your parents wanted and I plan to do as they wished.”

A smile grew on Harry’s face. “I would like that. Remus has told me a lot about you and the rest of the Marauders, and I feel like you two are the only family I have left, outside of the Weasleys, of course,” turning to Ginny and squeezing her hand.

“And it looks like I need to get to know this gorgeous young woman as well; she obviously means a lot to you.” Pulling Harry into a hug, he said, “Good bye, Harry. It won’t be long until we see each other again, I promise.” While Sirius was saying good bye, Harry heard Remus discussing that evening’s DA session with Ron, but couldn’t make out any specifics.

Sirius released Harry and walked over to Remus and they walked toward the gates, leaving Harry, Ginny, and Ron standing there with Professor Snape lying on the ground. “What do we do with him?” asked Ron, nudging the Defence teacher with the toe of his boot.

The trio thought for a moment. Harry ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Ginny, who was chewing on her lower lip. He could feel her uncertainty through their Bond, so he put his hand on her shoulder and she calmed a little at the contact. Ron was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. Harry thought he heard “Hermione” a few times and he suppressed a chuckle as Ron was obviously trying to think like his girlfriend.

He looked back at Ginny who appeared to be scanning their area for something, which gave him an idea. “Let’s pull him out of the direct view of the front doors to make sure no one can see him,” said Harry. After Harry and Ron had moved him to in a little nook on the exterior of the castle, Harry suggested, “Now, I’ll run up to the dorm and grab my Invisibility Cloak. From under the Cloak, Ginny and I can cast a Rennervate at him from a distance and we’ll be able to ensure that he doesn’t suspect anything. Hopefully he won’t have any idea how he arrived out here or what he was doing.”

Ron said, “Harry, why don’t you and Ginny stay here and I’ll get your Cloak? If Snape starts to wake up, the two of you are better able to handle him together.”

“Good idea, Ron,” said Ginny, obviously impressed.

“Is it in your trunk?” asked Ron.

“Yes, I put it under some old t-shirts on the left side. You should be able to find it easily.”

Ron left quickly while Harry and Ginny kept their wands pointed at their Defence professor and an eye out for anyone who might come outside. Fortunately, no one did, and a few nervous minutes later, Ron returned, somewhat out of breath. “Whew, I wasn’t sure if I was going to get away from the common room. Hermione wondered where I had been and I didn’t want to take the time to explain what I was doing.”

“What did you tell her?” asked Ginny.

“I said that Harry and I were having an argument about Quidditch rules, and that I needed proof that I was right,” he said, showing them that he had also retrieved his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages. “She just rolled her eyes, muttered ‘Boys!’ under her breath, and returned to her revising,” he said with a smirk.

Harry chuckled, picturing Hermione’s reaction in his mind. He slapped Ron on the back and said, “Quick thinking, mate!” He added with a smirk of his own, “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you were channelling your inner Slytherin with that fib.”

Ron turned a little white. “Bite your tongue, Potter! I’m a Gryffindor through and through.” He then laughed and said, “I couldn’t exactly tell Hermione the truth, could I? I don’t think she’d approve of us holding a Stunned and Obliviated professor at wandpoint, would she?”

The three sniggered. Ron pulled out Harry’s Cloak and handed it to him. “You better get back inside, Ron,” suggested Harry. “The Cloak covers the two of us, but just barely.” Ron agreed and left.

Harry pulled the Cloak over Ginny and himself and they walked about twenty feet away from Snape before casting the reviving spell. They watched, holding their breath, as Snape awoke, looked around with a confused look on his face, stood up, and brushed some debris from his clothes. He then stood up straight, donning his usual sneer, and walked back to the castle entrance.

A few minutes later, Ginny and Harry followed him inside and went to one of the ground floor classrooms where they removed the Cloak. They then walked hand in hand to the Great Hall for dinner, trying to act naturally. Shortly after they sat down, they were joined by Hermione and Ron. Hermione asked, obviously perturbed, “So, Harry, did you and Ron settle your argument?”

Harry, who had been trying to watch Snape furtively, was caught by surprise by Hermione’s question, but quickly recovered. “Yeah, Ron was right. I never should have questioned him,” turning his attention back to Snape.

“What was the argument about?” asked Hermione.

“It’s not important, Hermione,” said Ron.

“It was important enough for you to go running out the portrait hole, Ronald! Why don’t you simply tell me what the argument was about?”

Ginny whispered to her best friend, “Hermione, please just leave off the Quidditch argument. We’ll tell you about it later.”

Hermione, a little stunned at Ginny’s angry tone, nodded and went back to her dinner. Throughout the meal, she looked back and forth between the three, trying to figure out what they were up to, but didn’t say anything.

Harry and Ginny continued to check on Snape periodically, and, fortunately, the professor seemed to be acting normally with no suggestion that something had happened that afternoon. When they finished eating, the two couples arose together, with Harry glancing one more time at Snape as they left.

As soon as they were in the corridor, Hermione turned on the other three. “What is going on?! What did you three do this afternoon?”

Ron pulled Hermione into a deserted classroom and Harry and Ginny followed them inside. Harry quickly cast an Imperturbable Charm on the door so they could explain the events of the afternoon to Hermione without being disturbed. It took quite a while since Hermione repeatedly interrupted with questions or scolding comments about how they could have handled it differently.

“While I certainly don’t agree with Stunning and Obliviating a professor, I do see where that might have been the best option at the time,” she eventually acquiesced. “Are you sure that he suspects nothing?”

“That’s what we were trying to determine during dinner, when you kept going on about the ‘Quidditch argument,’” retorted Ginny.

“Oh,” Hermione said, turning a little pink. “Sorry about that.”

“We’ll just to keep an eye on him the next few days, but my guess is that he doesn’t remember anything. When has he ever delayed a punishment for me,” Harry said with a chuckle, which was joined by the other three.

Ron looked at his watch and hopped off the desk he’d been sitting on. “We need to be going,” he whispered to his friends. “It’s almost time for DA and I need to set everything up. Remus told me what he had planned, but he didn’t think he was going to be able to make it. Other things taking up his time, you know,” he said with a wink. The other three also arose and followed him towards the Room of Requirement.

A/N: As has been requested in several reviews, the truth about Peter and Sirius is finally revealed. It also shows why I had Voldemort call Peter “Pettigrew” throughout the resurrection scene and not “Wormtail” as was in canon. It was also refreshing to have someone other than Hermione figure out a puzzle.

I also resolve a question that I was surprised I never received in reviews: Why was Harry transported to America and not to the Dursleys? I felt like I had to close that loophole in my plot.

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Chapter 31: Offers

Author's Notes: If any of you readers are science buffs, please don't be overcritical of my description of Harry's project. I did try to research electromagnetic shielding, and I think it is accurate enough for the purpose of a fanfiction story, but I am sure it would not hold up to true scientific scrutiny. I hope you enjoy it.
Thanks again to Arnel for her beta work. I couldn't do this without her.


Offers

A week later, after their weekly DA session, Neville asked Harry to stay after they were finished. Ever since Neville’s sudden departure from the Great Hall, Harry had been watching his roommate more closely. Neville seemed even quieter than normal, and he noticed quick flickers of rage would occasionally appear on Neville’s face, especially when reading The Daily Prophet. There were also a few times when Neville would come up to Harry as if he wanted to talk, but then turn around and leave the room. So, Harry was not surprised when Neville had finally asked if they could talk.

When everyone else had left, Harry mentally requested two comfortable chairs and the Room obliged. He waved at one of the chairs, indicating for Neville to sit down before asking, “What’s up, Neville?”

Neville looked uncertain as to how to start. After a few seconds of hesitation, he finally asked, “Harry, how do you do it? You seem to be upbeat, even with what’s happened in your life.”

Harry was confused. “I’m not following you.”

Neville hesitated before taking another tack. “Don’t you get angry? Do you hate V … He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named for what he has done to you? After all, he did kill both sets of your parents.”

Harry thought for a moment, trying to figure out where the conversation was going, but was still lost. “Sure, I get angry, but I try to stay focused on what I have to do. And when I do get angry, I come here to the Room of Requirement and workout. Sometimes I even use a punching bag and conjure a picture of his face on it. It’s amazing what a little physical exertion can do to chase away bad feelings.”

This idea seemed to interest Neville. “Is that what you do in the mornings before breakfast?”

“Sometimes. Most of the time I just workout with the rest of the Quidditch team, but there are times when I need to let off some steam and pummel his face.”

A quick smile appeared on Neville’s face before it became unreadable again. Neville paused, appearing to look for the correct words. Quietly, he asked, “Do you ever want to kill him?”

Harry was taken aback at the question. “Neville, obviously you are asking these questions for a reason. Can I ask why? If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine, but it might help me if I knew where you were coming from.”

Neville thought for a moment. “This isn’t something I share with people, because I don’t want their pity, but if anyone can understand how I feel, I figure it must be you.” He took a deep breath and continued. “When I was a toddler, right after You-Know-Who and you disappeared, some Death Eaters broke into my house and attacked my parents. My parents were Aurors, and from what I have learned, the Death Eaters thought that my parents might know where their Dark Lord was. Anyway, the Death Eaters tortured my parents with the Cruciatus Curse, but my parents couldn’t give them the information they wanted. They used the curse so long, my parents’ brains were destroyed. Now they live on St Mungo’s long-term resident ward, because they can’t care for themselves. I still visit them, but they don’t recognize me. The closest I ever get is that my mum seems to realize that I am someone who cares for her and often gives me a used gum wrapper.” He looked down at his lap, obviously embarrassed at sharing this personal information.

When he looked up again, Harry saw the anger he had noticed on occasion reappear on Neville’s face. “The Death Eaters who tortured my parents were sent to Azkaban for their crimes, but they were among the ones who escaped last month. One of them was the witch that you saw me duelling on Saturday.” Harry nodded in understanding. He remembered how Neville had left the Great Hall so quickly when the news of the Azkaban breakout had been in The Daily Prophet. He and Ginny had noted the anger on Neville’s face when he faced her. Now it all makes sense, he thought.

“When I saw her, all I could think of was all that I had lost not knowing my parents. I was just filled with so much rage, I couldn’t think straight. I forgot everything we’ve been learning in the DA and she defeated me easily. But even as she was torturing me, I had this overwhelming longing to kill her. The feeling was so strong, I barely even felt the Cruciatus Curse she had on me. So, I ask you again, do you ever want to kill V … Voldemort?”

Harry thought for a moment before answering. He didn’t want to lie to his friend and Neville deserved a proper answer. However, he also knew that Dumbledore wanted him to keep the prophecy secret and, even if he was free to reveal it, he wasn’t sure if Neville was ready to hear that he could have been the child of prophecy if Voldemort had chosen differently. Choosing his words carefully, he said, “My situation is a little different. You see, Voldemort is obviously out to kill me. He’s tried four times now. So, from my standpoint, it’s either kill or be killed. I don’t like it, but it’s something I am trying to learn to live with. But in answer to your question, yes, Neville there are times when I want to kill him in revenge for what he ordered done to my parents back home. What he did to James and Lily Potter is more of an abstraction to me, since I never knew them, so that doesn’t make me as angry.”

He let that sink in a moment before continuing. “Let me ask you a question, Neville. Now that you have thought about it, how do you feel about this desire to kill her?”

He dropped his head. “Guilty, ashamed,” he said, barely loud enough for Harry to hear him. “I’ve always been taught that wizards for the Light don’t have those feelings. I’m afraid I’m going over to the Dark side.”

Harry fought hard not to laugh at Neville’s inadvertent Star Wars reference. “I don’t agree; even the best of us do have those feelings, but we don’t act on them. That’s what makes us different from them, Neville. They want to kill, they enjoy killing, and they feel no remorse for it. On the other hand, while we may occasionally want to kill someone, we don’t want to do it unless absolutely necessary, and we feel guilty about it afterwards. I felt horrible after that article came out about that Death Eater who had been killed in the battle, but Ginny reminded me that we are in a war and there are going to be casualties. But the key is that I didn’t try to kill him, and I still felt guilty afterwards.” Harry reached over and put his hand on Neville’s shoulder. “Merlin, you even feel guilty about thinking about killing the witch that ruined your life. That’s nothing to worry about. You are definitely not going over to the Dark. What you are feeling is normal for someone in your situation.”

Neville met Harry’s eyes for the first time in several minutes. “What do I do about it, then? I keep feeling these cycles of rage and then guilt. I haven’t slept a whole night since that battle. I’m having a hard time concentrating in class. I’m a wreck.”

Harry thought for a moment. “Do you want to get revenge on this witch, this … what’s her name?”

“Bellatrix Lestrange. Yes, I do. But she is so much stronger than I.”

“Well, then start focusing your thoughts on training to defeat her. What can you do to give you an advantage the next time you face her?”

Neville considered Harry’s question. “I can work harder in the DA.”

“That’s the same idea I had. What else can you do, say, for instance, in class?”

“Try to apply what I’m learning so that I can use it to beat her.”

“Exactly. That’s what I do in class, or with Professor Lupin. I think, ‘How can this help me defeat Voldemort?’ Sometimes it can be difficult, especially in Transfiguration, but, if you can be creative, ideas can come to you. It also keeps me more engaged in class when my mind tends to drift.

“But I also recommend that you don’t constantly dwell on it. Are you and Hannah still together?”

A faraway look appeared on Neville’s face. “Yeah.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth twitched a little at Neville’s response to thinking about Hannah. “You mustn’t let your wish for revenge to overtake you. Have some fun. Spend time with her. Visit a few broom cupboards,” he said with a smirk. “Talk to her. Have you shared these feelings with Hannah?”

Neville shook his head, looking down in his lap again. “I’ve been too ashamed to admit it.”

“I don’t know how close the two of you are, but I would guess that she would like to share this burden with you. She is a Hufflepuff, after all. I can’t tell you how helpful Ginny has been to me. If I didn’t have her, I am sure I would spend all my time brooding and none of you would want to be around me.

“And, when you get angry, come here and work it off. You’re welcome to join us in the mornings and I can show you how to use the equipment and then you can come anytime you want to work off some steam.”

“Really? You’d let me come workout with the Quidditch team?”

“Sure, there’s plenty of room. And I can work with you on one-on-one duelling during DA as well. We’ll work together to get you as ready as you can be the next time you meet her.”

Neville blinked in surprise at Harry. “I really appreciate this, Harry.”

“No problem, mate.” Harry stood and gave Neville a hand up from the comfy chair. He looked down at his watch. “Now, it’s getting late, but I think there is enough time for you to find a certain blonde and get some snogging in before curfew. Do you know where to find her?”

A grin broke out on Neville’s face. “I do,” he said as he walked briskly to the door. “Thanks again, Harry. See you in the morning?”

“Six sharp,” Harry replied. “See you then.”

************

Harry took a deep breath, calmed his nerves, picturing in his mind his ultimate objective, before waving his wand and saying the incantation. He was in the Transfiguration classroom, with Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, completing the practical portion of his seventh year project. After Professor Flitwick had received Harry’s scroll on the concept of magic being carried on electromagnetic waves, they had been trying to come up with a way to prove his theory. It was eventually decided that Harry would try to create an electromagnetic barrier in hopes that Muggle electronics could work in the Wizarding world, using his Walkman CD player as the experiment. Initially he had tried lead, as he knew that lead blocked x-rays and other types of radiation. Lead, however, had two disadvantages. One, it was very heavy. Second, while it did seem to block some of the magic–he could get the Walkman to turn on– it obviously didn’t block it totally as he couldn’t get it to do anything else. Remus had taken him to a Muggle university library and they learned that, for other electromagnetic wave frequencies, such as microwaves, copper was the preferred shield. Copper by itself didn’t work either, so with the two professors’ help, Harry was going to try to transfigure an electromagnetic wave shield with these two materials woven together.

He started by transfiguring the carrying case for the CD player, changing the fabric from nylon to burlap, because it was easier to concentrate on the woven pattern of the rough fabric. “Conmuto Textura” he said as he waved his wand over the material, and he watched the black nylon slowly change to light brown burlap.

“Excellent, Mr Potter,” said McGonagall. “Now, concentrate on the vertical threads in the burlap and do the next step.”

He took another deep breath and almost whispered, “Pertexo Plumbum” as he moved his wand up and down over the burlap parallel with the vertical threads. As he did, they began to change to a dull grey. “Whew. It worked.” He then turned his wand in the other direction and said, “Pertexo Aeramen.” This time the fibres perpendicular to the lead ones took on a reddish sheen.

“Wonderful, Harry. That is a very difficult spell to master, and you did it on the first try!” encouraged Professor McGonagall.

Harry picked up the transfigured carrying case. It was a little heavier than it had been originally, but the metal threads woven together did make a flexible fabric not that different from the original.

“Now, we just need to see if it blocks the electromagnetic waves like we hope,” added Flitwick.

Harry picked up his CD player and put it inside the new case and put his earphones on. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered as he pushed the power button and then play. His face broke out in a wide smile as he was greeted to “Thunder Road” by Bruce Springsteen.

A smile appeared on the two professors’ faces also. “I take it that it works?” asked Professor McGonagall. Harry nodded and removed the earphones. “Excellent. Now, all you need to do is work on the paper describing your research and procedures. If you need any help with that, especially the Magical Theory, since your education has been focused on practical work, let me or Professor Flitwick know. I am sure Miss Granger might be able to help you as well.”

**********

The next Saturday was the second Quidditch match of the season, this one against Hufflepuff. Ron increased the practice schedule again, but not as intensely as before the Slytherin match. While Hufflepuff had an okay team, they probably would not provide much competition to the Gryffindors. The day of the match, Harry felt much less nervous than he had before the previous match and had no problem eating a good breakfast with the rest of the team.

As the game started, it was obvious that Hufflepuff was going to be more of a challenge than they thought. They were using a strategy much more in keeping with Slytherin with very physical play and aggressive use of the Bludgers, especially against Harry. Harry found himself dodging a lot more than he had ever had to in practice and it was difficult to keep his eye out for the Snitch when he was constantly scanning for Bludgers. The Chasers were also under attack and several times Harry heard Ginny letting out a grunt or squeal when she was hit by a Hufflepuff Chaser, but she took care of herself well and still managed quite a few scores. Because of the more physical play, there were more penalties called as well. Apparently, while the Hufflepuffs were trying to emulate the Slytherin style, they weren’t as good at hiding it, so they were caught fouling by Madam Hooch more often. Ginny scored four times on penalty shots.

After playing for about ninety minutes, Gryffindor was leading 180-120, much closer than they had anticipated. Harry had just finished avoiding another Bludger when he finally spotted the Snitch for the first time near the Hufflepuff goals. The Hufflepuff Seeker, Summerby, was closer to the Snitch, but hadn’t seen it yet, so Harry flew as fast as he could toward the Slytherin stands, causing Summerby to follow him. At the last second, Harry pulled out of his dive and headed for the Hufflepuff goals. Unfortunately Summerby wasn’t as agile on his broom and couldn’t stop in time, ploughing into the Slytherin fans. Harry found the Snitch again and was reaching out for it when a Bludger came out of nowhere and hit him in the upper arm. A loud crack echoed through the pitch as Harry grabbed his right arm with his left. He could feel the bone edges grinding against each other if he moved it at all, so he knew it was broken. He pulled his arm against his chest and slipped his hand and wrist inside his Quidditch robes at the front to stabilize it, sort of like a make-shift sling. Holding on to his broom with just his left arm, he circled around searching for the Snitch again.

The crowd was still silent from the sound they had heard, concerned about the injury that Harry must have sustained. Madam Hooch had stopped the game, so Ginny flew up next to him, asking, “Are you alright, Harry?”

“I’ll be alright. Just keep putting the Quaffle in the goal and I’ll get the Snitch,” Harry said through clenched teeth.

Even though she was hovering next to him, she sat up straighter and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t believe you, Potter. Remember our connection. My right arm hurts too. Are you sure you can keep playing? We can get Lydia to take your place.”

“No, I can handle it.”

Ginny shrugged and flew off to await the resumption of play. In the meantime, Harry reassured Madam Hooch that he could play and she blew the whistle to allow play to resume. Harry flew tentatively at first, but then more comfortably as he learned what manoeuvres would cause pain to his arm. Fortunately, having it in his robes did keep it supported fairly well and he was able to fly fairly normally. The Gryffindor Chasers increased the lead further, but they could not get the lead over 100 points, so he knew the outcome of the match was still in his hands, well, at least his left hand.

He spotted the Snitch again about fifteen minutes after his injury. Summerby had been shadowing him after the restart, so as soon as Harry started for it, Summerby was next to him on his right. Summerby took advantage of his knowledge that Harry’s right arm was injured by repeatedly dropping his shoulder and knocking into Harry. Each time they collided, Harry felt a sharp pain that radiated down his arm. The pain continued to increase with each blow, to the point that he was starting to get a little nauseated and lightheaded from it. After five hits, Harry knew he couldn’t handle much more, so he tried a risky move; he performed a barrel roll to his left and, as he was rolling, went a little to his right so that, when he came back upright, he was actually to the right of Summerby. The momentum of his roll carried him into Summerby’s right side, and Summerby, not anticipating this sudden move, was knocked hard off his path, almost falling off his broom. While Summerby was regaining his balance, Harry shot off toward the Snitch. As he neared it, he squeezed the broom handle between his thighs, let go with his left hand, and reached toward the Snitch. The little ball did a last second swerve to the right, but Harry was able to follow it and grabbed it, ending the match.

“Potter catches the Snitch with his left hand, giving Gryffindor the victory, 390-140!” announced Luna Lovegood, the commentator for the match. “That was quite impressive, Harry, catching the Snitch with no hands on your broom. Good show!” she added.

Harry took the Snitch and put it down his shirt so that he could more easily steer his broom to the ground. As he landed, he was mobbed by his teammates, and, as he was engulfed in the group hug, his right arm was jostled, causing intense pain again. He let out a muffled yell of pain, and then everything went black.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up in the hospital wing with a very concerned Ginny looking down at him. “You’re awake! How are you feeling? Does your arm hurt?”

Harry noticed that his arm wasn’t in pain any more, and he moved it gingerly at first, but then lifted it over his head and said with a grin, “It’s fine; no pain at all!”

Ginny said, “Good,” and then proceeded to wallop him in the left arm. “You prat! How could you be so reckless with such an injury? Madam Pomfrey said you had a severe fracture with the bone in several pieces and you never should have continued to play with it. Had you had another hard blow to it, you might have lost your arm altogether! Why did you have to be so macho and play hurt when you were obviously in a lot of pain?”

Harry rubbed the sore spot where Ginny had hit him. “Ow, that actually hurt, Ginny. You pack a strong punch,” grinning at her, but his attempt at teasing was not well received, as Ginny’s glare intensified.

“I’m sorry,” he said contritely. “I didn’t realize that the fracture was that bad. I once played a baseball game with a broken rib after getting hit by a pitch, so I thought I could tough it out.”

“Don’t let it happen again, Potter. That’s why we have reserves. You’ve been working with Lydia and you know she has improved. She’s not as good as you, but she could have beat Summerby.”

“Okay, if I’m hurt again, I’ll let Lydia take my place.”

McGonagall walked up at that moment with a smirk on her face. “Miss Weasley, if you are done lecturing Mr Potter about his recklessness, he has a visitor who would like to speak to him.” Ginny nodded, blushing a little, and the older woman turned and waved over a man that was standing by the door. He was short, but solidly built, like an athlete. He strode over quickly to Harry’s bed and reached to shake Harry’s hand, when he stopped himself, “How is your arm? Are you okay to shake hands?”

“Yes, it feels good as new. The left one, on the other hand, may take some more time to heal,” he said with a grin and a glance at Ginny as he rubbed his arm again. Ginny rolled her eyes and slapped at his left shoulder.

“Good. Mr Potter, I am Lorcan O’Toole, a scout for the Ballycastle Bats, an Irish Quidditch team. I had come to watch your match to check out Mr Weasley because we need a new Keeper next year, but I didn’t expect to see such a fine Seeker, also. You fly like you’ve been doing it all your life, but I know from your press coverage that you just started this summer, which is just amazing. If this is how you can fly after just eight months, I can’t imagine how much better you could get. Have you ever thought of playing Quidditch professionally when you are done with Hogwarts?”

Harry was stunned. “No, I guess I haven’t thought about it, but then again, I’ve only known about Quidditch for a very short time.”

“Well, start thinking about it. The Bats would like to sign you to play Seeker for us. Practice starts this summer with the first games in September. I am going to leave a contract with Professor McGonagall for you to review because I want to get you on our team before anyone else finds out about your skills. I’ll give you a couple weeks to think about it. I also have two Ballycastle jerseys for you and Miss Weasley. If you have any questions, just send me a letter. And if any other teams contact you and make any offers, let me know also, as we might be willing to beat whatever they offer. Please be in touch, Mr Potter, because we would love to have you wearing a Bats uniform in the fall.”

He shook Harry’s hand again and, as he turned to leave, he looked back over his shoulder and said, “Miss Weasley, I know you still have a year to go at Hogwarts and I shouldn’t be talking to you yet, but, while we are strong at the Chaser position for the coming year, I think we will need a new Chaser the next year, so keep us in mind.” He then continued on his way out of the room, leaving two speechless teenagers. Ginny unfolded one of the jerseys, which were black with a scarlet Bats logo on the front. She turned it around and saw that the back had a large number 7 on it with “POTTER” across the shoulders. Hers was smaller, also with Harry’s number and name.

Harry turned to Ginny with an incredulous look on his face. She hugged him and said, “I’m so proud of you, Harry! Professional Quidditch! That would be wonderful.”

“You, too! We could play together when you finish school.”

Into the hospital wing strode Ron and Hermione, Ron waving a parchment over his head. “You feeling better, Harry?” asked Hermione.

“Yes, good as new. What do you have there, Ron?”

“You’ll never guess,” he said, the excitement obvious in his voice.

A mischievous twinkle in her eye, Ginny said, “A professional Quidditch contract, perhaps?”

“How did you know?” asked Ron.

“Mr O’Toole just left here and offered Harry a contract as well.”

“Really, Harry? You received an offer too?” asked a dumbfounded Ron.

“Yes. Congratulations, Ron,” said Ginny as she hugged him. “I know you’ve dreamed of playing Quidditch professionally for a long time. Too bad it’s not with the Cannons.”

Ron shrugged. “Well, I don’t have to sign this immediately; we’ll have to see if other offers start to come in, but this is a good one. Ballycastle is a much better team; their Keeper is retiring after this season, and apparently their Seeker is also.”

“And one of their Chasers might be retiring next year; he told Ginny to keep them in mind.”

“Ginny, too? It could be a real family affair, as you’ll be a part of the family by then.”

Madam Pomfrey came up at that moment. “Let’s check that arm out, Mr Potter. Any pain? Full movement?” She waved her wand over his right arm and then said, “Looks like it is healed. You are free to go back to your common room; I understand there is a little bit of a celebration going on. Mr Potter,” she added sternly, “no risky behaviour for the next few days; I don’t want to see you again for a while.”

Harry jumped out of bed, grabbed Ginny’s hand and the two couples left to join the party. By the time they arrived, it was already going strong, but when Harry, Ron, and Ginny ducked through the portrait hole, the decibel level increased immediately. The crowd started singing “Weasley is Our King,” a song that Slytherin had started singing a few years ago, mocking Ron, but Gryffindor had changed the words and used it regularly as a cheer for their captain. The party became even more raucous when Ron and Harry’s offers were announced. It continued for many hours, until Professor McGonagall came in at 2 a.m. to break it up.

Back to index


Chapter 32: Excitable Boy

Excitable Boy

The next week, Remus and Tonks had made arrangements again for Harry and Ginny to leave the castle. “First,” said Remus with a smile, “we are going to the Ministry so you can take your Apparation tests.”

Harry returned Remus’ smile, but he could feel Ginny’s sadness through their Bond. He turned, grabbed her hand, and asked, “What’s wrong, Ginny?”

Her face down, she replied, “I’m only sixteen. You can’t get your Apparation license until you’re seventeen.”

Remus continued to smile. “It’s a good thing, then, that the Headmaster pulled a few strings. You have Ginny literally jumped for joy and hugged Remus. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Remus chuckled. “It’s not me you should be thanking; it’s Dumbledore.”

Ginny released Remus, a little embarrassed. “I will make sure to thank him next time I see him.”

The quartet used the Floo in Professor McGonagall’s office to travel to the Ministry. When they arrived in the Atrium, Ginny was brushing the soot off of herself when she looked up and saw a familiar face. “Daddy!” She ran over to him and gave him a hug. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “It’s Saturday; you normally don’t work on the weekends.”

“Professor Dumbledore asked me to meet you here,” he said with a smile on his face. “While he did arrange for you to take your Apparation test today, the Department insisted that you have parental permission. So, I have to sign some papers before you take the test.”

Ginny hugged him again. “I’m so glad you did. I know I just saw you a few weeks ago when Harry was in the hospital wing, but I was asleep most of that.” A mischievous grin came on her face as she slapped her father’s arm. “As a matter of fact, Harry’s spent more time with you this term than I have.”

“How about if after you take you test, I treat all of you to lunch at the Leaky Cauldron?” he asked as he put his arm around his daughter.

“That would be wonderful,” replied Ginny immediately, but then her smile disappeared. She turned back to Remus and Tonks, asking, “Is that okay? Do we have time? I don’t know what you have planned after this.”

Tonks replied, “We have plenty of time. Lunch sounds great, especially if someone else is paying,” she said with a wink.

“That’s decided, then,” said Ginny, putting her arm through her father’s. “Let’s get this over with,” she said leading him toward the lifts.

Harry and Ginny had no difficulties with the Apparation test, and soon they both had their licenses. They enjoyed an early lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, where Ginny was able to catch her father up on the events at Hogwarts, including more detail about the attack at Hogsmeade. Arthur blanched when she told him about fighting Voldemort, and again when he learned of Harry’s severely fractured arm. “You really need to do a better job of avoiding injury, Harry. I will not have my son-in-law constantly worrying my daughter,” he teased.

“I will try, Arthur, but trouble just seems to find me,” Harry said with a shrug.

When Ginny was done with the summary, Remus said, “I thought you two would like to know that Sirius is living in his old family home at Grimmauld Place in London.”

Harry and Ginny both gasped and looked back and forth between Remus and Mr Weasley. “But, Remus …” said Harry.

Remus chuckled. “Arthur already knows all about it. Both he and Molly have been visiting Sirius and helping him get his house in order. Your mum has taken on the task of fattening him up after all those years in Azkaban. I don’t think I have ever seen Sirius so full! Dumbledore has placed a Fidelis Charm over the house, so that only he and the re-established Order of the Phoenix can enter, so he should be safe there.”

“That’s good to know, Remus,” said Harry. “Thanks for the update. Make sure to say hello to him from us, but warn him not to eat too much of Molly’s cooking. I wouldn’t want the vet to have to put Padfoot on a diet,” he said with a chuckle. “Believe me, I know the risk with all of the food she insisted I eat when I was there over Christmas,” he continued, eliciting a laugh from all those at the table.

After lunch, Arthur bid them all farewell, promising to hug Molly for Ginny, and used the Floo to travel to the Burrow. The other four Apparated to a glen that was surrounded by trees as far as the eye could see.

“So, what are we doing here?” asked Ginny.

“We thought that you needed to practice controlling your combined magic more. As you know, some spells vary in their intensity, depending on how much power you put behind it. Expulso is one example, and one of the easiest to see the difference in strength because of its destructive force. It also is one you are adept at, as we saw the hole in the alley in Hogsmeade that you created when you were battling the Death Eaters. We thought that this forest would be a perfect place to practice, because it is going to be destroyed soon anyway. We learned that the Muggles are planning on cutting down all these trees to create a subdivision of homes in the next few weeks, so, if a few trees are turned into match sticks, which will only help them.

“Now, I want you to hold hands and concentrate on your magic as each of you cast the spell towards those trees. Try to notice how it feels as the spell leaves your wand.”

Ginny and Harry did as instructed, each exploding several trees in the process.

“Good. Now, try to hold back some, putting less effort into the spell.”

As they practiced, Ginny gradually developed a feel for controlling the strength of the spell. At the lowest strength she would just chop a piece out of the trunk. But Harry was still struggling.

“Remus, could I try it wandlessly? Sometimes, doing magic without my wand seems more natural.”

“Sure. Ginny obviously has a lot more experience with using a wand than you do; maybe you will be able to sense your magic more easily without your wand.”

Harry did this and found that he could control things much better without his wand. He was able to dial down the strength of the spell to just cause a small branch to snap. He then tried again with his wand and, after getting the feel for his magic wandlessly, he was able to control things better with his wand.

“Good, Harry. It is good that you can now do this with your wand; Dumbledore would like to keep your wandless abilities as secret as possible, even though Malfoy should know about them and may have passed that information on to Voldemort.”

“Can I try it wandlessly, too?” asked Ginny. “I’ve never tried to do magic without my wand, but if Harry can do it, maybe I can too.”

“Great idea, Ginny,” said Tonks. “Wandless magic can generally only be done by strong witches and wizards, and, with your combined magic, you certainly qualify.”

Ginny tried several times, but just became frustrated at her inability to do wandless magic. Harry could sense this through their Bond (although it was obvious to Remus and Tonks too), and tried to send soothing emotions to her. “Ginny, let’s try something. I am going to wandlessly Summon that branch over there. Then, I am going to try to send everything I felt and thought through our Bond.” When Harry did this, Ginny could feel exactly what he was doing, and, when she tried, she was able to Summon a branch toward her wandlessly as well.

“I did it!” she exclaimed as she hugged Harry.

“I knew you could. Now, concentrate on doing the same thing with Expulso.” After a little more work, Ginny started becoming almost as proficient at wandless magic as Harry. They continued to practice until Ginny’s stomach gave a noisy growl. “Excuse me,” she said with a blush.

Remus looked down at his watch. “Bugger, it’s later than I thought. I guess it’s time for dinner. Dumbledore said I could take you two out tonight as long as I had you back before eight. Any thoughts on where to go?”

“How about that Chinese place in Soho you like so much?” suggested Tonks.

Harry laughed at Tonks’ comment, but everyone else just stared at him. When he recovered, he asked, “Remus, you gonna get a big dish of beef chow mein?” with a chuckle. The other three just looked at him with confused looks, before he explained, “It’s a Muggle thing.” Reverting the subject back, he said, “Chinese sounds great to me.”

“I’ve never had Chinese food before, but I’m willing to try,” said Ginny.

The two couples Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron and then ventured out into Muggle London. As they were leaving, Ginny grabbed Tonks by the arm and said, “Tonks, your hair!” which was her favourite bright pink.

“Don’t worry, Ginny, where we’re going, my hair will fit right in.” They hailed a cab to take them to the restaurant, and Ginny, who had never spent much time in Muggle London, had her eyes glued out the window, looking at all the sights. After they stepped out of the cab and were walking to the restaurant, they passed a tall man in his early twenties who had bright blue Mohawk and multiple facial piercings, including what looked like a large safety pin going through his nose. Tonks nudged Ginny, grinned, and whispered, “See, I told you I wouldn’t look strange here.”

“Does that hurt? What happens when he gets a cold?” asked Ginny, causing Tonks to laugh out loud.

“I’m sure it wasn’t comfortable going in, but I would guess he gets used to it. And it’s not permanent, just like earrings. He could take it out when he is sick.”

Inside the restaurant, Ginny continued to take everything in and tried not to stare at the differently dressed and coifed patrons. They ordered entirely too much food and ate family style so Ginny could try a variety of dishes. Harry tried to teach Ginny how to use chopsticks, but after several pieces of baby corn ended up on the floor and one ended up in the hair of a woman at the next table, she gave up and went back to using a fork. She enjoyed most of what she tried, but especially liked the spicier dishes, because they were so different from what she was used to.

“If you like spicy, I’ll have to take you to a Thai restaurant sometime,” said Harry. “Thai food is similar to Chinese in that a lot of it is stir-fried with meat, vegetables, and noodles or rice, but the flavours are different. One of my parents’ favourite restaurants was a Thai place near our home. If we can convince your parents to let me take you to America this summer, we can try it.”

After dinner, they returned to the Leaky Cauldron via cab. Just as they were about to go in the pub, Harry noticed that right next door was a record store. “Wait, you three, I’m going in here for a moment. Why don’t you go into the Cauldron and get a drink while you wait.” A few minutes later, Harry joined them in the pub, carrying a small bag and a smirk on his face.

“What’s up, Harry?” asked Tonks.

“Let’s go back to Hogwarts and I can show you.”

They used the Floo in the pub to travel to McGonagall’s office. As soon as they arrived, Harry pulled himself off the floor, thinking Drat! Still don’t have the hang of that yet. He told them to meet him in the Room of Requirement as he ran back to his dorm. When he returned, he was carrying his Walkman inside its case and the bag he had brought from London, with a smirk on his face. “What is so funny, Harry?” asked Tonks.

“You’ll see in a moment,” as he opened the jewel case he had bought at the record store and placed the disc in his player and let them listen to track 4 of Warren Zevon’s Excitable Boy, enjoying the laughs when they listened to the lyrics closely.

**********

March 15, 1998

Dear Aaron,

Congratulations on your baseball scholarship to Bowling Green! I am envious of your chance to continue to play baseball after high school. I would love to get out to a batting cage to swing at some balls, but I haven’t found one here in Britain, surprise, surprise.

In actuality, Harry had asked the Room of Requirement to make a batting cage a few times as a change to his usual fitness routine.

I know I told you in my last letter that I would probably stay here for at least one more year, but I wasn’t expecting such a great opportunity! One of my professors was so impressed with my seventh year project on electromagnetic shielding that he showed my rough draft to a university friend of his and they have offered me a position next year as a student/researcher at the British Ministry University. The position starts right after graduation here, so it looks like I won’t even be home for the summer. I hope to be able to get a little time off so I can visit. It’s a great opportunity, and it keeps me nearer to Ginny.

This opportunity had come about due to Professor Flitwick. After Brook and Hermione met with him in the fall concerning his theory about electromagnetic waves and magic, Brook had indeed shared his ideas in a paper that was submitted to the Department of Mysteries. The Unspeakables were impressed, and after his success with shielding his Walkman which confirmed his theories, asked Harry to work for them investigating these possibilities. They had arranged for him to study physics at Oxford part-time while working for the Department of Mysteries part-time as well. He wasn’t sure how professional Quidditch would fit with this, but Madam Hooch thought he might be able to do all three.

I hope the baseball season goes well; I know I will miss not being out on the diamond with you. Give me updates!

Brook

***********

Harry had been working with Neville for a few weeks and was puzzled. He struggled with spells more than the other seventh years, but, according to him, that had always been true. He had related one morning after a training session that his family had been concerned that he was a Squib until he was dropped out of a window and he bounced when he hit the ground. Neville told it with a chuckle, but Harry could tell that his family’s apprehensions still dogged him. While he had difficulty with spells, he took to physical training, especially the martial arts that Harry had learned from Tonks, very quickly and learned without trouble. Then one morning, Neville accidentally did some wandless magic and surprised both of them. “I’ve always assumed I wasn’t a strong enough wizard to do wandless magic, so I’ve never tried,” he said sheepishly. After that, the two worked on wandless magic, and found that Neville had a real knack for it.

One day, they were doing a combined magic and Muggle fighting duel and their wands both fell out of their hands when Neville tackled Harry from behind. They scrambled for their wands, Neville winning the race, and he was able to bind Harry. After he released Harry, Harry noted, “Nev, you have my wand and I have yours.”

“Oh, I do, don’t I. Here,” he said, handing Harry his wand. “I’m surprised it worked for me at all.”

This caused Harry to think, remembering Ollivander’s comments about finding the right wand, and he looked at Neville’s wand closer. He noticed that it seemed smoother than most wands, but had more scars and nicks as well. “What is your wand made of, Neville?”

“It’s acacia with unicorn tail. It was my dad’s and served him well until the end,” he said proudly.

That explains it, Harry thought. “Why didn’t you get your own wand before you came to Hogwarts?”

“Grandmum would always act funny when I suggested it. I think that my using his wand is sort of honouring him in her mind. Anytime I brought it up, she said that his wand was good enough for him and it’s good enough for me.”

“What would happen if you accidentally snapped your wand? Or even better, if I did?”

“What do you mean?”

“Neville, you had almost as good results when you used my wand instead of yours. And you are actually better at wandless magic than with a wand. I think that means that your wand is not matched to you. If your wand was snapped, then you’d have to get a new one, one that is attuned to your magic, and I think you would find magic so much easier. We’ve a Hogsmeade weekend coming up. You could purchase a new wand at Ollivander’s branch there.”

Neville paused a moment while he thought about what Harry said. “I don’t know if I could do that. I know my dad’s still alive, but this wand connects us. I couldn’t break it on purpose.”

“How about you just tell your Grandmum that I broke your wand while we were duelling, but keep it hidden in your trunk? Do you think that would work? Make sure you blame it all on me; I wouldn’t want you to have to take the heat for this.”

“I think you’re on to something, Harry. I think I may have to send an owl to my Grandmum a few days before our Hogsmeade trip and tell her I had an ‘accident’,” he said with a mischievous grin.

**********

A few days later, Ron and Harry were revising in the common room by themselves. Most of the rest of the house was still in class, including Ginny, and Hermione was with Professor Babbling translating The Bright Arts. While Harry was reading his Charms text, Ron was perusing the paintball book that Harry had given him for Christmas. Remus and Ron had been using some of the team strategies during DA meetings, and they were confident that it would give them an upper hand in any battles with Death Eaters, as most wizards were only trained to fight one-on-one duels. As he was reading, Ron was making notes on some parchment and occasionally would make a noise suggesting he liked some strategy he had found.

At one point, Ron looked up from his book. “Harry, I know you gave me this book for the strategies, not to teach me about paintball, but can you tell me more about the basics? Like what do paintball guns and the paintballs look like?”

Harry jumped up from his chair. “I can do better than that; I have both in my trunk. Let’s go up to our dorm and I can show you.”

They walked up the stairs and Harry dug into the bottom of his trunk, pulling out a small black case and a cylinder of brightly coloured balls. “I doubted that I would get a chance to use these, but I thought I would bring them anyway.” He set the case on his bed and opened it, revealing his paintball gun. “This is the gun. You put the paintballs up here in this container called the hopper. Then you just aim it, pull the trigger, and the paintball is shot out the front.” He pointed the gun at the door and then pulled the trigger. Unfortunately, Neville opened the door at that moment and the paintball hit him right in the chest.

“Ouch; what was that?” asked Neville as he rubbed his sternum.

Harry felt his face heat. “Sorry, Neville. I was just demonstrating to Ron the use of a paintball gun.”

“Well, that answers one of my questions. I wondered if it hurt the person who was hit,” said Ron.

“I guess it stings a little; I was more surprised at being assaulted as I came into the room,” said Neville, rubbing his chest some more.

“They can leave some pretty good welts, but most of the time you are just a little sore when you get hit,” explained Harry. As Neville came over, Harry muttered Scourgify as he waved his hand at Neville to clean up the paint.

“What is in the paintball? Is it really paint?” asked Ron as he rolled one in his hand.

“No, it isn’t real paint. Basically the shell is made of gelatine that breaks upon contact. The paint is actually a water soluble dye, sometimes with soap in it. It washes out easily with water in most cases, although it can stain really light coloured fabrics, like white.”

“Can I try shooting it?” asked Ron.

“Sure, just don’t aim it at anyone at first, because you could hurt someone’s eyes if you hit them in the face. For that reason, we always wear a mask when competing.”

Ron took the gun and aimed it at the curtains surrounding Dean’s bed and fired. The paintball hit the fabric and exploded, leaving a red splatter. “Wow, that’s wicked!” he said with a wide grin. He then handed the gun to Neville so he could try it.

“Why all the sudden interest, Ron?” asked Harry.

“Well, I was thinking as I was reading, and started wondering if these could be used as a weapon against the Death Eaters.”

“Well, it hurts a little, but I doubt that would slow them down much,” replied Harry.

“But what if, instead of paint, the balls were filled with a potion, say like a sleeping draught?” asked Ron.

Harry thought for a few seconds, following where Ron was going. “Ron, that’s an interesting idea.”

“But don’t you have to swallow most potions for them to work?” asked Neville.

Ron rubbed his chin. “True, but I know some people who could help us alter the potions to be effective upon contact.”

“Who?” asked Harry.

A grin reappeared on Ron’s face. “The twins. Even though they didn’t get good marks in Potions class, primarily due to the fact that they hated Snape, they are amazing with potions. Many of their products are based in potions. I’m sure if we showed them what we are thinking, they could come up with all sorts of options.”

“That sounds like it could work,” said Harry. “Wait, what about shield charms? Wouldn’t it be easy to just conjure a shield to block them?”

Neville answered this one. “Actually, Protego wouldn’t have any effect on them because it only blocks spells or magically charmed objects. Nonmagical objects fly right through the spell. That’s why a shield is no help against Muggle weapons, like firelegs.” Harry suppressed a chuckle at Neville’s mistake. “Here let me show you. Shoot me while I conjure a shield.”

Harry took the gun and aimed it at Neville’s leg after he had conjured a shield. As he predicted, the paint ball flew right through it without any problem. “I think you’re onto something, Ron. Do you think the twins are in their shop now? We could sneak out through the passage to Honeydukes and visit them this afternoon. We don’t have any classes for the rest of the day.”

“One of them most likely is. They normally alternate between their two shops. If not, we can just use their Floo and contact them.”

“Are coming with us, Neville?” asked Harry.

“No, I think I’ll stay here. I have that Defence essay to finish.”

“Alright,” said Harry. “See you later.”

Ron and Harry used the Invisibility Cloak to walk to the statue of Gunhilda on the third floor. Making sure that no one was around, Ron whispered, “Dissendium,” which opened the hidden passageway behind her hunched back. They then slid down to a dirt tunnel and walked through the twisting path to Honeydukes. Staying under the Cloak, they slipped out of the sweet shop and walked to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. They found that George was indeed in the Hogsmeade branch, and he had Fred come up from Diagon Alley at Ron’s request. When they heard Ron’s idea, a twinkle appeared in their eyes and a mischievous grin grew on their faces.

“What do you think, Forge? Can we make work?”

“I think we can, Gred. Never would have guessed it, but our ickle Ronniekins might just have had his first brilliant idea.”

“Well, he was due for one.”

“Maybe he’s received some brains from Hermione during their snogging sessions.”

Harry lost his battle with his laughter and a small snort escaped his tightly closed mouth at this thought.

“And think of all the possibilities,” one of the twins continued. “Sleeping draughts.”

“Babbling potion so they couldn’t say their spells correctly.”

“Laughter potions that would have the same effect.”

“Rapid hair growing potions to block their view.”

“Dizzying draughts.”

“Numbing potions that would cause them to lose all feeling.”

They continued for several minutes without stopping, obviously overjoyed to be working on something and Harry felt like he had taken a dizzying draught just trying to follow their conversation. After leaving the twins to let them get to work on their new project, Harry and Ron slipped back to Hogwarts under the Invisibility Cloak.

When they returned to the common room, they discovered that Hermione had returned from Professor Babbling’s office and was on a sofa reading her Potions text, unaware of anyone else in the room. Ron plopped down next to her, surprising her out of her concentration. “Hey, love. How was your afternoon?” Ron asked as he kissed her on the cheek and put his arm around her shoulders.

“Frustrating,” she replied with a furrowed brow. “There was a section on Soul Bonds that discussed specific spells that only bonded couples could perform, but we couldn’t translate enough of it to make any sense. I thought I would come back and revise something easier,” lifting her Potions text.

“That’s easier?” asked Ron.

“Much. All it takes is memorization. No actual thinking. Where have you two been?”

“We snuck out to Hogsmeade to visit the twins,” replied Ron with a grin.

Hermione frowned. “What practical joke item could possibly be worth the points I should take and the detention that I should give the two of you for breaking the rules?”

“Hold off on punishments until you hear why we went. We didn’t go there to buy anything. We went because your boyfriend had a brilliant idea that we wanted to share with them,” said Harry.

Hermione raised her eyebrow sceptically. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

At that moment Ginny walked through the portrait and sat down in Harry’s lap and put an arm around his shoulders before pecking him on the cheek. “Did I hear correctly that my thick brother actually had a good idea?”

“Not good, but brilliant!” said Harry. “He came up with the idea of putting potions into paintballs to use as weapons against Death Eaters.”

Hermione’s face showed the concentration it always did when she was considering a new concept. “Hmmm. If you could make potions that would have effect on touching the skin, that could be very effective. Perhaps, sleeping or dizzying draughts,” she murmured under her breath, but loud enough for the other three to hear her. “And they wouldn’t necessarily be blocked by normal shields, like most spells and hexes would.” After another few seconds, her face changed from one of concentration to joy. “Ron, that is brilliant!” She grabbed Ron into a hug and started kissing him.

“While they are busy,” Ginny said, turning to Harry, “can you explain that to me? I know you’ve talked about paintball before and we’ve been using strategies from that book in DA, but I’ve never really understood it.”

Harry explained paintballs and paintball guns to Ginny, wishing he had another gun to demonstrate, but he had left his with the twins. Ginny was also impressed. “I guess my brother isn’t as thick as we thought.”

“Maybe Hermione is rubbing off on him. But he always has been good with strategy. Look at the way he plays Wizard chess.”

“True,” replied Ginny. “Perhaps we should leave them alone. Care to take a walk with me?” she said as she stood up, grabbing his hand. “There was a broom cupboard on the sixth floor I’ve been wanting to try out,” she said with a grin.

“I think I could be convinced to do a little exploring,” he replied as they walked through the portrait hole.

A/N: There is some controversy over whether shield spells could protect from non-magical projectiles or not. Both my beta Arnel and I could not find any definitive example in canon where a shield did block something non-magical, so I chose to assume they would not, since otherwise, this plot idea wouldn’t work.

Back to index


Chapter 33: Spring Break

Spring Break

The end of the winter term was approaching, and with that, the Easter holiday. One morning, a few weeks before the end of the term, Hedwig flew in with the other post owls with a letter for Harry.

“Who is it from, Harry?” asked Ginny. “I recognize the Muggle stamps on it.”

“It is from my parents’ travel agent. He is confirming our reservation for Easter break.”

“So what plans did you have?”

“They rented a cottage on a bluff overlooking the English Channel. They had done some research and knew that I would likely need to spend some time studying over this break and didn’t plan for us to do much traveling. We were just supposed to rest, relax, maybe take a few walks on the beach, and get a little studying in. I guess I should let him know we won’t be coming.”

“Wait, Harry. That sounds wonderful. Do you think we could go instead?” asked Ginny.

Harry was a little surprised. “Do you really think your parents would let us go on a vacation together?”

Ginny thought for a moment and then replied in a disappointed tone, “No, you’re right. There is no way they would go for it.” After a few seconds of silence, she smiled and asked, “How big is this cottage? How many bedrooms?”

Harry looked over the letter more closely. “Well, let’s see … three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a sitting room with a big fireplace, a well-furnished kitchen, and a back room with a home theatre.”

“A home theatre?” asked Ginny.

“A room designed for watching movies. With a big screen TV, a VCR, and speakers all around the room to make it feel like you are watching the movie in a theatre. Have you ever seen a movie?”

“No, I haven’t, but Daddy’s talked about them a little. What’s it like?”

“Well, it’s sort of like a memory in a Pensieve, except you’re not inside the memory, you are just watching it from outside. But some are so realistic that it feels like you are actually living it.”

“And what are the other things you mentioned, a VT and VRC, was it?”

“It’s a TV, or television, which is a device that lets you see the moving pictures. Sort of like a magical photograph but with sound. It can pick up programs from the air, like the Wizarding Wireless. Or you can connect it to a VCR, or a video cassette recorder, and watch recorded shows or movies.”

Ginny considered the possibilities. “That sounds like it could be fun. Now, you said there were three bedrooms, right? Well, what if we get someone to chaperone us. Then, my parents wouldn’t have as much of a problem with it. And, we should ask Ron and Hermione to come too. You and Ron can have one room, Hermione and I get another, and whoever we convince to chaperone us could have the third.”

Harry thought for a moment. “That could work, if your mum would go for it. It would be fun for the four of us to get away for the week. It would certainly be a lot better than staying here with Hermione constantly nagging us to revise for NEWTs. But even if your parents would say we could go, what about Dumbledore? With everything that is going on with Voldemort, would it be safe for us to leave Hogwarts?”

She shrugged. “The only way to find out is to ask him. Let’s talk to Ron and Hermione and see what they think, and if they are interested, we can ask him about it.”

Ron thought the idea was great, but Hermione took some convincing. Her friends could tell she wanted to get away, but that her sense of responsibility kept her leaning toward staying at school to revise. Ron tried to remind her what she said earlier in the term about finishing revising during Christmas break, but she just rolled her eyes at him. What finally won her over was when everyone agreed to revise really hard in the morning, leaving the afternoons and evenings for relaxing and fun.

They next visited the Headmaster who also needed a little convincing. However, the students could tell he was thinking through all the ramifications as they made their arguments.

“I agree that going to a cottage near a Muggle village nowhere near any wizards probably is safe, especially if you do have a chaperone who can also serve as a protector. Have you anyone in mind?”

“Well, we had thought of Bill and Fleur, if she is feeling okay. She isn’t due for quite a while yet, and Bill said she was over the morning sickness stage now,” suggested Ginny. What she didn’t add was that she and Ron thought that their best chance of getting Mum to agree would be with big brother Bill supervising the two couples.

“May I suggest someone else?” asked Dumbledore, a twinkle in his eye. “Sirius Black, as you may be aware, is living in his family home in London, but is feeling almost as trapped there as he did in Azkaban. He is itching to do something for the Order, but we can’t afford for him to be seen since the Ministry is still searching for him. He was a gifted Auror before everything happened so he is more than qualified to protect you. And, lastly, we are using his home as Order headquarters, so Mrs Weasley has been getting to know him. She has taken a liking to his roguish charm and a little pity on his situation. I think that if I presented your suggestion of a vacation together as a ‘mission’ for him and as a way to make him feel more useful, she might be more willing to let the four of you go. Unless you don’t think getting your mother’s permission will be any problem …?” he said with a smirk.

“No, if you think she’s more likely to go for a plan with Sirius as our chaperone, that would be great,” said Ginny quickly. “We are all for anything to make it easier to convince her to let us go.”

***********

As it turned out, Sirius was thrilled to get out Grimmauld Place and, after a little convincing from the Headmaster, Molly agreed to the four teens to spending the break at the cottage. Dumbledore arranged a Portkey for them to travel directly there, in this case a red umbrella with white polka dots. Hermione tapped it with her wand to activate it and the next thing they knew, they were lying in the grass in a pile, their limbs all entangled. The four laughed as they extricated themselves from each other and, as they stood up and brushed themselves off, they looked at the cottage where they would be staying for the next ten days.

It was surrounded by a three foot high stone wall covered in ivy with a wooden gate that opened on a winding flagstone pathway. Ron and Harry picked up their bags, opened the gate for the girls and the foursome walked to the cottage. On either side of the path was a garden that was just starting to grow, but there were some early blooming flowers amongst the green leaves. The cottage itself was made of grey stone with a cedar shingle roof, and had many multi-paned windows with white shutters and looked like it had been there for at least a century. The front door was surrounded by a stone arch and was rounded at the top. They opened the front door and were greeted with a “Welcome to Fairview Bluff!” by Sirius, who was lounging on a sofa in the front room. He jumped up from his resting spot and shook hands with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, and hugged Harry. After the hug, Harry pulled back and took a good look at his godfather. He looked much better than he had the last time they had seen him. He had fresh clothes, his hair had been trimmed and brushed, he had gained weight, and the dark circles around his eyes had faded.

Sirius noticed their gazes and said, “Yeah, I do look a little different than when you saw me last. It’s amazing what sleeping in a real bed and eating Molly’s cooking can do for you. She’s been coming over to my house at Grimmauld Place several times a week to make sure I am eating okay. Treats me like a little kid sometimes.”

“Mum’s always on the lookout for someone else to mother, or should I say smother?” said Ginny with a grin.

“Shall I give you the grand tour? He turned with a flourish, sweeping his arm and saying in a voice that sounded like a he was trying to sell them something, “Here we have the sitting room, furnished in the country cottage style, complete with comfy armchairs and sofas and a Floo-less fireplace. It is a Muggle house, after all. Through here is the roomy and airy kitchen with all of the latest appliances, although I don’t know what half of them do.” He whispered to Harry as he went by, “I was thinking about getting into real estate once my name has been cleared. What do you think?”

Before Harry could respond, Sirius winked at him and continued the tour in much the same vein. As the letter had described, the cottage did have three spacious bedrooms. Two of the rooms had queen beds while the third had four twin beds. The owner of the cottage was an American who bought it as a vacation home for both him and his family with grandkids and he rented it out when they weren’t using it. The media room at the back of the house was as wonderful as advertised. Harry checked out the video library and was impressed with the selection. It was skewed toward family films and he saw quite a few favourites.

Sirius then led them back to the kitchen and through a door that led to the backyard that was fenced in (presumably to keep the yard safe for the grandkids). As they approached the fence, they could see that it was at the edge of a bluff that overlooked the English Channel and offered a beautiful view. After enjoying the scenery for a few minutes, Sirius led them to a gate to the left which led to some stairs and path that winded down the bluff to a secluded beach. There were piles of large rocks on either side of approximately 100 yards of sandy seashore. They all kicked off their shoes to wade in the water, but the water was too cold to really enjoy it. That didn’t stop Ginny from kicking some water at Harry, getting him pretty soaked. He retaliated by running after her, lifting her up, and carrying her out into thigh high water before dropping her in. She jumped up and gasping for air because it was so cold and then promptly launched herself at Harry, knocking him under the water as well. Harry stood up, raised his hands, smiled and said, “Truce?” Ginny agreed and they walked hand in hand out of the water, where they each used drying and warming charms on the other, as they were both shivering.

Ron looked like he wanted to do something similar to Hermione, but she saw the look on his face and quickly ran away from the water. When he approached her, she shook her head and gave him a look that said, “Don’t you dare.” Ron shrugged and instead grabbed her hand and they continued their stroll down the beach.

Sirius watched the two couples with a smile on his face, but also felt a little jealousy. He had had relationships while at Hogwarts and afterwards, quite a few actually. And that had been fine. But, then one Halloween night many years ago, his life had been forever changed. In his few months of freedom since his escape from Azkaban, he had done some reflection on his life and one realization he had made was that he had never experienced the kind of relationship that James and Lily had had. He came to the conclusion that he had missed out. It was apparent even these two teenaged couples had experienced more true intimacy than he ever had. He had resolved to change that, but dating opportunities were slim since he could rarely leave Grimmauld Place. This week was the first extended time away from his ancestral home, and he had to stay hidden. After all, he still was a serial killer wanted by both the Wizarding and Muggle authorities. He let out a sigh before suggesting to the teens that it was time to go back to the cottage and start working on dinner.

Harry made dinner that evening from things he found in the pantry and fridge. He had the most familiarity with Muggle kitchen appliances–Hermione admitted that she had never shown much interest in the kitchen–and he proudly showed off the culinary skills his mother had spent most of his junior year teaching him. She had been adamant that he know how to cook, as he was going to be leaving for college soon, and she wouldn’t be able to teach him much while he was attending school in Scotland. While he was fixing some pasta with marinara sauce and garlic bread, he mused about those cooking lessons, but also about how different his life was from what his parents had imagined. Just think, he thought to himself, if they hadn’t died, I might be in this very cottage, telling them about my classes at a very different Scottish boarding school from the one I ended up at. His mood started to drop a little as he thought about his parents being here with him, but then he looked over at Ginny, who was at the table chopping vegetables for the salad and his mood changed quickly. If they hadn’t died, I may never have found her. Yes, I would still be here, but there is no way I could be anywhere near as happy as I am at this moment. I just wish my parents could have met her. His eyes teared up a little and before he could wipe them away, Ginny looked up and said, “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing really. I was thinking about how this was supposed to be a special time with my parents.”

She put her knife down on her cutting board and came over to him, enveloping him in her arms. “Oh, Harry, I didn’t think of that when I suggested we come here. I should have known how difficult this would be for you. I’m sorry. If you want to find someplace else to stay, we can.”

“No, it’s not that. I was just thinking how happy you make me and wishing I could share that happiness with them. I really wish they could have met you. I’m sure they would have loved you almost as much as I do.”

Ginny snuggled into his chest. “I wish I could have known them, too. They must have been special parents if they could raise a man as special as you.”

After a few moments of cuddling, the sauce on the stovetop began to bubble and Harry let go of Ginny to tend to the meal. Ginny went back to the vegetables and as she picked up the knife again, she said, “Harry, truly, we could go somewhere else. After all, you are the president of a major corporation in America as well as the only heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, so you could afford it,” a smirk sneaking onto her face.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll be fine and I am really looking forward to this time together with you. And with Sirius. I really want to get to know him better. If things had been different, he could have raised me. Anyway, dinner’s almost ready. Do you want to call the others to set the table?”

She turned toward the sitting room and yelled, “Oi, Ron, if you want to eat, get in here and set the table!”

Harry chuckled at his fiancée, picturing a time in the future when she would be calling their children in just the same manner, and being filled with a warm feeling that he wouldn’t have thought possible just nine months ago.

**********

After dinner, the five sat down in the media room while Harry went through the videotapes to see what they would watch. “What are you in the mood for? We have classic dramas, romantic comedies, animated children’s movies, science fiction, adventure. They really do have a great selection.”

“What’s ‘animated’?” asked Ron.

“Most movies use a special type of camera to record real actors. Animated movies are made in a different way. Artists actually draw a series of pictures that only have a minor change from the previous picture. Then when you play the series of pictures quickly, it looks like the characters are really moving.”

“You lost me,” said Ron. Ginny and Sirius were both obviously confused as well.

Hermione found a small notebook in one of the end tables and said, “Harry, why don’t you pop in a live action video and let them see a little while I work on a flip book to show them what you mean.”

Harry picked up Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark and put it in the VCR. He chose it because of the action scene at the very beginning when Indy was removing the idol from the South American temple, avoiding all of the booby traps and that boulder.

Ginny, Ron, and Sirius, being raised in the Wizarding world, were mesmerized by the scene and when Harry stopped it at the end of the scene, they protested to have him let it continue. He held up a hand and asked, “Hermione, ready there?”

“Yes.” To the other three, she turned and said, “You see, you three are used to pictures that move, but in the Muggle world, pictures are stationary. So they came up with this option with technology to make their version of moving pictures. As a matter of fact, that is what they were originally called, ‘moving pictures’ when they were invented, but it was shortened to ‘movies’.” She showed them the notebook on which she had drawn some stick figures. “If you see each of these pictures by itself, is not moving. But if you fan the pages quickly like this,” she quickly fanned the notebook pages, “it looks like they are moving. All movies work this way. Some are filmed with special cameras that take multiple still pictures, while the animated ones, also called cartoons, are drawn. Show them an animated video, now Harry.”

Harry put in Cinderella, so they could see what an animated feature looked like. Hermione commented that she loved the Disney movies growing up and it would be fun to watch them again. Harry again asked, “Well, what will it be?”

Harry’s pick of Indiana Jones as a demonstration had whetted their appetites enough that it was decided to watch the rest of it. Each of the couples snuggled together in a love seat while Sirius relaxed in a recliner. Harry and Hermione had to explain some of the historical references, such as the Nazis, and Hermione explained that many people believed that Grindelwald and Hitler were actually connected in some way, although it was never proven.

After the movie was completed, Sirius yawned and stretched, announcing it was time for him to go to sleep. “This is the most activity I’ve done for months and I’m really knackered. Before I go to bed, let me explain something. Since my time in Azkaban, I am a very light sleeper, and I also frequently have nightmares. It is not uncommon for me to wake up screaming. For this reason, I am going to cast a Silencing Charm on my room so you won’t wake me up and so that my nightmares won’t disturb you. So, if you are walking around at night, you won’t bother me. Oh, and one last thing. Molly stressed to me that I was to insist on you four revising. Since you haven’t done any work today, I have one assignment for you tonight. The boys’ room has four twin beds. Before you can go to bed, I want you to transfigure two of the twin beds into one queen bed. Easier to share that way,” he said with a wink. “Whether you keep it combined for the night is up to you. Good night all. Sleep well.”

The four teens looked at each other with their mouths open. Ron recovered first, saying, “Did he just give us permission, no, encourage us, to do what I think he did?”

“I think so,” said Hermione with a smile on her face. “Let’s get to work on our ‘homework’!”

Hermione, of course, found the spell first, Certamen Suppellex, and after moving two of the beds together, she performed the charm without difficulty on the first attempt. “Who is staying in here and who gets the other bedroom?” asked Ginny.

“If it’s okay, I think Hermione and I should stay in here; her bed looks more inviting. That is, if it’s okay with you, Hermione.”

“I think that sounds wonderful, Ron. I’ll just go get my bag from the other room.”

Harry held out his arm to Ginny and said, “I guess that means this is our room. Care to join me, my lady?”

Ginny put her hand through his arm and responded, “I would be delighted, dear sir. Good night, Ron. Try to get some sleep, will you?” she added with a wink as she left the room.

After getting ready for bed, Ginny snuggled up to Harry with her head on his chest and his arm around her shoulders. “Am I dreaming?” asked Harry. “I can’t believe we are going to be able to sleep like this all holiday.”

“Mmmhmm,” responded Ginny as snuggled even closer. And they soon fell asleep, dreaming of their future lives together.

**********

The next day they started a routine that would continue for the rest of their vacation. They all rose around eight (even Ron) and Harry made breakfast for everyone. After cleaning up, they revised until lunch. Since Ginny didn’t have NEWTs, she spent much of her time helping Harry learn what he had missed by not attending Hogwarts for the first six years. While he was adept on spellwork and other skills, his knowledge of theory was lacking, since that had been omitted over the summer in his crash course in magic. Sometimes Hermione needed some convincing to stop, but usually she was willing. Lunch was normally sandwiches, crisps, and fruit. After lunch they had planned to spend time outside, either on the beach or walking the countryside. Unfortunately the weather was horrible most of the week and it was almost constantly raining. So, instead, they watched a lot of movies. Sirius and the Weasleys couldn’t get enough of them; it didn’t matter what genre, they loved them all. After an afternoon of Disney princess movies–at Hermione’s request since she said she was feeling nostalgic– they spent most of dinner discussing the depiction of magic in the movies.

“Where do the Muggles get these ideas?” asked Ron. “Everyone knows that Cinderella was thought to be a Squib until the night of the ball when she learned that she was indeed a witch. She didn’t need a fairy godmother to do all those things; she did them herself.”

“And those mermaids, they look nothing like the real things,” said Sirius. “If they looked like Ariel, I would have been spending a lot more time down by the lake when I was at Hogwarts,” he added, waggling his eyebrows.

“You know what we need for tonight?” asked Harry, changing the subject. “If we are going to be watching movies most evenings, we need some microwave popcorn.”

“Why popcorn? And what is microwave popcorn?” asked Ron.

Hermione explained, “When Muggles go see a movie in a theatre, it is customary to eat popcorn during the movie. And, do you see that white box on the counter over there? It is a microwave oven. It can be used to cook food. There is a special type of popcorn specifically made to be cooked in a microwave without mess and very quickly. I think that’s a great idea, Harry. Popcorn sounds good.”

Harry looked out the window. “It’s actually stopped raining. Why don’t Ginny and I go into town before the rain comes back and buy some? What do you think, Ginny?”

“I would enjoy a walk after being stuck in here all day.”

“I don’t know if it would be a good idea for you to go out alone. How about if you take Padfoot for a walk?” asked Sirius.

“We could do that. Ron and Hermione, do you want to come, too?”

The couple looked at each other and then Hermione said, “I don’t think so, Harry. We’ll just stay here and snuggle in front of the fire. Even if it has stopped raining, it’s still damp and cold.”

So, Ginny and Harry walked hand in hand into town, wearing raincoats they had found in the entry closet, with a large black dog on a leash. They stopped in a store and bought enough microwave popcorn to last the week. Harry also picked up an assortment of fizzy drinks, thinking the magically-raised would enjoy trying them. As they were leaving, the wind started picking up again, the sky darkened, and they heard some thunder in the distance. “We better hurry back home,” said Harry. “It looks like it’s going to pour.”

By the time they arrived at the outskirts of town, the wind had become a gale and it was getting harder to even walk upright without being buffeted around. Ginny and Harry had to hold on to the hoods on the raincoats and to each other in the strong wind. Their heads were down when they heard a loud crack followed by a scream. Harry’s head swivelled towards the sound and he watched in horrified fascination as a gust of wind uprooted an enormous tree and tossed it towards the running figure of a woman. He instinctively reacted by squeezing Ginny’s hand and casting a wandless Accio that pulled the woman out of harm’s way. She landed in his arms, burying her face in his chest, crying and gasping for breath. After a few seconds, she seemed to realize that she was sobbing on a complete stranger and pulled back. One look at her told Harry that she was in her early thirties, blonde, and was attractive, even though her eyes were red and her mascara was running from her tears.

“I’m so sorry about that; I don’t even know you,” she said, sounding embarrassed.

Harry held out his hand and said, “I’m Aaron Roberts and this is Melanie Jansen. We’re staying at Fairview Bluff for the week.” Harry had appropriated the names of his best friend from America and his friend’s girlfriend from last spring, not wanting to give any wizards their whereabouts. “Oh, and this is our dog, Padfoot,” who was nudging Harry with his snout, obviously wanting to be introduced as well.

“I’m Aubrey Phillips,” shaking Harry and Ginny’s hands. “Pleased to meet you. And pleased to meet you, too, Padfoot,” who was sitting and holding out his paw to be shaken. “What an adorable dog.”

“He’s a little bit of flirt with pretty women,” teased Ginny as Padfoot was enjoying being scratched behind the ears by Aubrey, perhaps a little too much. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine; just a little startled, I guess. But how did I end up over here? I thought for sure that tree was going to end up on top of me.”

Harry gulped, trying to come up with a non-magical explanation. “Well, you see, I have a secret that I don’t like to let people know. Can you keep a secret?”

“I think so,” she replied tentatively.

“I have a type of ESP called telekinesis. Most of the time, I can just move small things, but, under stress, I can move something larger, like a person.”

Aubrey’s face showed surprise. “I always thought that was all hoaxes and frauds. You mean you can really do this?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, I can. Would you like to see proof?”

“Well, I’ve already seen proof; you did save my life after all. But I would like to see another example.”

Harry bent over and picked up a few small stones. He held them in his upturned palms and concentrated on doing wandless and nonverbal levitation. He saw just a small wiggle in the rocks until Ginny touched his elbow subtly, allowing their combined magic to raise them. Once they were in the air, he was able to make them orbit around each other for a few seconds before letting them drop back into his hands and letting out a sigh of relief.

“That is hard work,” he said.

Aubrey still had her mouth open at the display. “I really didn’t think that sort of thing was possible. That is an amazing gift!”

Harry shrugged. “But like I said, not very useful since it usually takes so much out of me to move anything, even something as small as a stone.” He added in just above a whisper, “Make sure you don’t tell anyone about this; you know the way people treat you if you are different, and I certainly don’t want to be tested and prodded by scientists trying to figure out how I can do what I do.”

She nodded her understanding. “I promise to keep it between us.” She went up on her tiptoes, kissed him on the cheek, and said, “Thank you again for saving me. If there is anything I can do for you while you are here, let me know.”

As she walked away, Harry asked, “Are you sure you’re safe to go home by yourself? We would be happy to escort you.” She said that wasn’t necessary and then walked down the street before turning in at a door that led to an apartment over a shop.

Harry, Ginny, and Padfoot began walking back to the cottage and when they were far enough out of town, Padfoot transformed back to human form, and said, “Good thinking, Harry! I wasn’t sure how you were going to cover for your magic. And I’m impressed with your wandless magic. Remus told me about it, but seeing it in person makes it difficult to believe that you have only been doing magic for nine months.”

“I couldn’t have done either of those spells without Ginny’s help. She was touching me both when I pulled Aubrey away from the tree and when I levitated the stones. I’m sure Remus has told you about how we are much stronger when we are in contact.”

“Then, I’m impressed with the two of you. We better get back before we get any wetter.”

After they returned from shopping, they finished their Disney princess marathon with Aladdin. Harry was detecting anxiety from Ginny through the movie, which he had also felt during the most suspenseful scenes of Raiders of the Lost Ark. However, this time the anxiety grew significantly at the end to something resembling fear. Sensing that something was wrong, Harry said, “I’m a little tired. Why don’t we turn in, Ginny?” He stood up and, when he offered her his hand, he noticed she was pale.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” said Ginny, an odd tone in her voice.

After they changed for bed and had snuggled under the covers, Harry asked, “What’s wrong, Ginny?”

Harry felt her sobbing against his chest and he just held her and reassured her. After a few moments, she regained control. “The last movie brought back bad memories from my first year.”

Harry was puzzled. “Why?”

Ginny hesitated before starting. “Do you remember when Jafar uses his staff to hypnotize Jasmine’s father?” When Harry nodded, she said, “That made me think of how Tom was able to control me with the diary. Then, at the end, when Jafar transformed himself into a giant snake, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the basilisk that I ordered to attack people in the school. Right next to us was Hermione, who was Petrified because of my mistakes.” She started crying again. “Just when I think I’m past it, it comes back at me all of a sudden.”

Harry held her tightly and ran his hand through her hair. “Ginny, I wish I could take this all away, but I know I can’t. But you need to remember that you made those mistakes when you were an eleven-year-old girl. You’ve learned from the experience and have moved beyond it. That’s part of what I love about you. You’ve faced challenges in your life, but they have made you stronger. We’re a lot alike in that.”

Ginny perched herself up on one elbow and wiped away her tears. She then leaned down, kissed Harry, and said, “Thank you, Harry. I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”

Harry pulled her back down so she was resting her head on his chest. After a few moments, he said, “Ginny, I’m so sorry. I’ve seen that movie so many times that I didn’t think of the fact that it would upset you.”

“That’s alright. I just feel silly becoming so upset at a children’s movie.”

“I’ll try to make sure there are no more giant snakes for the rest of the week,” he teased. “How does that sound?”

“That sounds great,” replied Ginny as she fell asleep.

**********

Unfortunately the weather never improved, but it did mean that they had a lot of time to enjoy the film library. They watched the Star Wars trilogy, the other two Indiana Jones movies, several classics like Casablanca, Gone with the Wind, It’s a Wonderful Life, and Singing in the Rain, which was especially appropriate due to the weather. The Wizard of Oz caused some laughs because of the depiction of the Wicked Witch of the West. Harry joked, “Just think, one year ago, I thought all witches looked like that. Now, I’m engaged to one.”

“Would you prefer me with a little green tint to my skin,” asked Ginny.

“Green does go well with your hair, so maybe you should try it,” he teased.

They also had a lot of fun the night they watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Harry reminisced that, while it was one of his father’s and his favourites, his mother never understood why they thought it was so funny. The audience was divided in this case as well. Harry, Ginny, and Ron thought it was hilarious, but Hermione and, surprisingly, Sirius, just didn’t see what was so humorous.

On the last night before they had to go back to school, Harry stood up and said, “I’ve been saving this one for last because it was a favourite in our family and it is a little sentimental for me. It was a tradition that on some cold winter night when we were snowed in, we would get a fire going, pop some popcorn, and snuggle under some blankets to watch it. It has everything; drama, romance, comedy, revenge, sword fights, a battle of wits, miracles, and one of the best wedding scenes of all time.” With a flourish, he said, “Tonight, I present to you, The Princess Bride.”

Back to index


Chapter 34: Plans Thwarted

Author's Notes: Thanks to Arnel for her beta work. Her suggestions especially made the Quidditch action better, but her other tweaks are greatly appreciated.


Plans Thwarted

Far above the Quidditch pitch, Harry guided his broom through a series of turns, spirals and dives, just enjoying the bright, sunny day and the breeze flowing through his hair. He heard a happy whoop behind him and turned to see Ginny flying next to him. He tilted his head to the right and she nodded, so he dove, flying as fast as he could, sensing that Ginny was right behind him and hearing her let out a squeal of joy. He did not slow as he approached the ground until the very last moment when he pulled out of his dive. He shot back into the air, doing barrel roll after barrel roll, looping in and out of Ginny’s path, sort of like a dance on broomsticks. When he glanced at Ginny’s face, it was filled with a kind of euphoria that he only saw when she was flying. After several minutes of this, they both landed, slightly out of breath and tired, but a good tired. Harry walked over to her and pulled her into a hug, whispering, “I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley” into her right ear. She responded in kind in his ear, and then started kissing him softly on the neck. “Mmmm,” he moaned. “You don’t know what that does to me, Miss Weasley.”

“Oh, I think I do, Mr Potter,” she said into his neck.

Harry continued to hum in satisfaction, until he realized that he was no longer out on the Quidditch pitch, but in his bed in the Gryffindor dorm. Just a dream, but what a wonderful dream! he thought. Then he realized that he was still being kissed on the neck and felt arms around his waist as Ginny held him from behind.

“Ginny,” he whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“If you have to ask, I’m not doing it very well, am I?” He turned toward her and saw a mischievous grin on her face in the low light of the moon coming in from the window. She continued to nuzzle his neck, using her tongue over his pulse point, driving him a little crazy. He reached out, grabbed his wand, and closed the curtains on his bed so they would not be seen. He then turned his whole body toward her, putting his hand under her chin to bring her lips to his. After a few minutes of kissing, he pulled back and she settled her head on his chest, her fingers playing with the few hairs he had there.

“Seriously, Gin, what are you doing here? Not that I am not enjoying the surprise.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Another nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“About the Chamber again?”

After a pause, she responded, “Yeah, about the Chamber. It was horrible seeing it all over again.” He felt her tears moisten his chest.

“It’s alright, Ginny. I’m here now and I won’t let anything like that happen to you again.”

“I know, Harry. I do feel better now that I am with you.” She started kissing his chest, moving across his collar bone and then back up to his neck. “How about you? Do you feel better, too?” she asked between kisses. She continued to move up his neck and jaw until their lips met again. As they kissed, Harry felt that something was not quite right, but he couldn’t place it. While her kisses were causing a physical reaction, the normal simultaneous chills and heat travelling through his body were not there. As he started to ponder this, he felt her hand snake down his chest, circle his belly button, and then dive down and slip down underneath the elastic of his boxers.

He grabbed her hand and pulled it back. “Please stop, Gin. If you keep doing that I don’t know if I will be able to stop, and you know we can’t do that until we’re married.”

Ginny sat up, straddling him, giving him his first look at what she was wearing. She had a silky one piece nightgown on with spaghetti straps. In the moonlight, it shimmered, showing off her curves. “But that’s so long and I don’t want to wait any more.” She smiled at him and lifted her fingers to the straps, pulling them off her shoulders and letting the nightgown pool at her waist. Harry was transfixed at what he saw. He, of course, being a teen-aged boy, had imagined what she looked like under her clothes, but she was absolutely breath-taking in person. “Come on, Harry, I can tell you want to, also,” raising her eyebrow. “Don’t you like what you see?”

Harry gulped. “You are more beautiful than I imagined, but we can’t.”

“Who says we can’t? We don’t know what our future will hold, Harry. What happens if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would kill you? If you died before we made love, I know I would regret it for the rest of my life.”

Harry sat up quickly, throwing her off of him and onto the floor, grabbing his wand again from under his pillow all in one fluid motion, and pointed it at her. She landed with a grunt, looking up with pleading eyes, “What are you doing, Harry, don’t you want me?”

Harry grabbed the duvet from his bed and threw it over her. “Cover up! Who are you and what are you doing in my bed?”

Ron, awakened by the noise, looked out from the curtains around his bed, and gasped. “Harry, what are you doing? Why are you yelling at my sister and holding your wand on her?”

“This isn’t Ginny! It must be someone using Polyjuice.”

“How can you tell, Harry?”

“She called Voldemort, ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.’ Ginny would never do that.”

Ron, still a little groggy, took a moment to understand. “You’re right. Maybe Tom, but never He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who. She gets on my back for using those names. Quotes Dumbledore, ‘Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.’ Who do you think it is, then?”

“I don’t know, but I aim to find out.” Turning back to the imposter, holding his wand inches from her face, he demanded, “Tell me, who are you?”

The imposter’s face changed then into a sneer. “Or what? Is Saint Potter going to torture me? I think not!” she spat back at him.

“You don’t know what I am capable of. If one hair on Ginny’s head is hurt, so help me, you will pay. Ministry be damned!” he snarled back at her. Turning back to Ron, “Check on your sister, Ron. Make sure she is okay. Then, get Dumbledore or McGonagall. We need to wait until the potion wears off.”

Ron pulled out his wand, said “ Expecto Patronum” and sent a message to Ginny, and then left to get the professors.

Both Harry and the imposter stayed still and silent until Ginny and Hermione came into the dorm. “What is going on, Harry?” asked Ginny. “I received a Patronus message from Ron to come up … “ She stopped in shock seeing her nearly naked double lying on the floor, holding a blanket that was barely covering her chest. The noise of the girls arriving woke Neville, Dean, and Seamus as well, and they were very confused when they saw two Ginnys, one wearing next to nothing on the floor.

Harry explained, “I was in bed sleeping when I was awakened by this imposter. She must have used Polyjuice Potion. She tried to convince me to have sex with her. I bet Voldemort sent her to try to sabotage our Soul Bond.”

“How did you know it wasn’t me?”

“Well, I was suspicious because kissing her didn’t feel right; there was something different. But then she called Voldemort ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.’ I knew you would never do that.”

Ginny came over to Harry, kissing him on the cheek. “Thanks for being so observant; especially in the middle of the night. It’s a good thing you caught her before things went too far. Hey, Neville, could you throw this sneak a shirt so you three will stop ogling my body?”

This shocked Neville out of his staring at the imposter and he went to his trunk and did what Ginny requested. Ginny held her wand on the pretender while the boys turned their heads, allowing her to put on the shirt Neville gave her.

Ron returned with Dumbledore and McGonagall at that moment. After Harry again explained what happened, Professor Dumbledore suggested, “Let’s take her to my office. I think Harry and Ginny should come, but the rest of you can attempt to go back to sleep.”

After they arrived in Dumbledore’s office, the Headmaster ordered the imposter to sit in the chair facing his desk. Without a word, she sat down, folded her arms across her chest and glared sullenly at him. “Now, will you tell us who you are and what your purpose was, or do we have to wait for the potion to wear off?” he asked. She didn’t move a muscle.

Then, right before their eyes, the imposter’s face began to change: her hair turned from long and red to short and black, and her faced changed to one resembling a pug, revealing her to be Pansy Parkinson. When Dumbledore realized who the imposter was, he sent a Patronus message to her Head of House.

A few moments later, a glaring Professor Snape arrived “Why was I summoned in the middle of the night?” he complained. He then saw Harry and asked, “What did Potter do now?”

Professor Dumbledore pointed over at Pansy, seated on the other side of Harry and Ginny. “That will be evident in a moment, Severus. Miss Parkinson was found in the Gryffindor seventh year boys’ dorm, having used Polyjuice to impersonate Miss Weasley.” He turned to Pansy and asked, “Miss Parkinson, would you please explain yourself?”

“Why should I?” the Slytherin retorted.

The Headmaster took a deep breath before continuing. “We just want to ascertain what you hoped to achieve and who assisted you.”

Pansy considered this for a moment and shrugged. “I guess it won’t hurt to tell you. Draco contacted me and asked me to impersonate the Weaselette and try to seduce Potter, here. They didn’t tell me why, just to do it. I didn’t protest; after all, he is handsome and has a good body,” she said smiling at Harry. Harry was disgusted that she found him attractive. Ginny glared at her.

“I received the Polyjuice Potion from Draco via an owl the other day,” she continued. “I threatened to hex a first year Gryffindor girl to make her steal Weasley’s hairbrush so I could get the sample I needed. I took the potion and then entered the Gryffindor dorms after everyone was asleep. Draco included the password in his note when he sent the potion. I slipped up into Potter’s room, and well, you know the rest.”

“Do you have anything else to say in your defence?” asked the Headmaster. When she shook her head, he continued with a sad tone in his voice. “Miss Parkinson, unfortunately I have seen you multiple times over your years here for incidents of bullying, cheating, and inappropriate behaviour with the opposite sex. I have given you many second chances, but, for this serious transgression, I have no choice but to expel you. I will be contacting your parents in the morning and they will take you home as soon as possible. I hope they can hide you from Voldemort, because he does not take to those who fail him well.”

Pansy became frightened and gasped, “I hadn’t thought of that! Please, Headmaster! Don’t expel me! I’ll do anything; I’ll serve detention for the rest of the year, anything! He’ll kill me if I haven’t succeeded!”

“You should have thought of that before you agreed to serve him. Professor Snape, can I ask you to take Miss Parkinson to one of the classrooms and watch her until her parents arrive?”

“Of course, Headmaster.” He took Pansy by the arm and led her out of the room. After they left, Dumbledore turned to Harry and Ginny. “It looks like you averted a potential disaster tonight, Mr Potter. We still don’t know how you are going to defeat Tom, but I am certain it has to do with your Soul Bond and your love for Miss Weasley. Good show. Twenty points to Gryffindor.”

“Thanks, Headmaster,” said Harry quietly. “Can we go back to bed now?”

“Certainly, try to get some sleep.”

As they walked back to their dorm, Ginny looped her arm through Harry’s and asked, “What’s wrong, Harry?”

His head down, he paused before responding. “Even though nothing happened, I still feel guilty, Ginny.” He turned toward her and took her hands in his. “I should have picked up earlier that it wasn’t you. You never would have come to my bed in the middle of night and tried that. I’m sorry I let it go as far as it did.”

“Exactly how far did you ‘let it go’?” she asked as her eyes narrowed.

“Just kissing. She did try to touch me, but I stopped her.” He looked down at his feet and muttered, “Then she straddled me and dropped her nightgown to her waist.”

He felt his face heat up as he looked back up to her face, and was surprised that it did not show anger, but a smirk.

“Did you like what you saw?” she asked.

“Of course, I did; I’ve been dreaming of what you look like and you are even more beautiful in person.”

“Well, that’s good then. I won’t have to be nervous on our wedding night about your reaction to me,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. Her tone then became more serious. “Harry, truly, I don’t hold it against you. It’s not like she was imitating my body; it was my body, just with that evil bint inside it. I’m just glad you caught on that it wasn’t me in time.”

They walked through the portrait hole together and then turned to each other in the common room. “I love you, Harry James Potter, and I always will, and tonight doesn’t change anything.”

“Thanks, Ginny. I love you, too. I just can’t help feeling guilty.”

“Give it some time. Goodnight, Harry.”

**********

A week later, Harry and Ginny were up late revising, when Ginny’s stomach rumbled. “Excuse me,” she said, with a smirk. “Guess I’m getting a little hungry.”

“I could use a snack, too. Let’s go down to the kitchens and see if we can get something to tie us over while we finish this essay for McGonagall.” Harry quickly retrieved his Invisibility Cloak while Ginny located the Marauder’s Map. After determining that the way was clear, they donned the Cloak and headed for the kitchens.

Once they entered, they looked around, seeing that most of the house-elves were hard at work, cleaning up cauldrons and ovens from the day’s meals. They were greeted by Joppy, who had noticed them. “Master Potter and His Wheezy, what can Joppy do for you this night?”

“We were a little hungry and were hoping for a snack. Maybe some biscuits and milk?” requested Harry.

“Straight away, Master. Joppy will be back in a moment.”

Ginny gave him a smirk. “Glad to hear you using the Queen’s English, Harry,” she teased. “We’ll have you speaking properly in no time.”

Harry flicked her gently on the arm and smiled, putting his arm around her. “I guess Joppy knew what she was talking about last fall, didn’t she? After all, you certainly are ‘My Wheezy’ now, aren’t you?”

Ginny smiled and put her head on his shoulder and responded, “And don’t you forget it.”

Without any warning, Harry was suddenly tackled from behind and he felt his legs forced together as he was falling to the ground. He let go of Ginny quickly to avoid pulling her down as well. When he hit the floor, he turned over and reached for his wand to protect himself. He then felt a weight on his chest and found that he was looking up at huge eyes just a few inches from his face. “The great Harry Potter is coming to kitchens to visit Dobby! Dobby is so grateful that he be a free elf because of the great Harry Potter.” The house-elf then gave Harry a hug, although his arms barely reached around the front of Harry’s chest.

After recovering from his surprise, Harry extricated himself from Dobby’s hug and introduced him to Ginny, explaining that Dobby was the house-elf that Malfoy had used to transport him to Hogsmeade on Valentine’s Day. “And then,” he finished, “Malfoy threw the transfigured mask that was now a t-shirt and Dobby caught it, freeing him. He was so excited that he was dancing around and then he just disappeared.”

Dobby, whose face was grinning from flapping ear to flapping ear, then changed suddenly to one of fear. “Oh, no! Dobby say that Dobby help you escape if Dobby free, but then Dobby so excited, Dobby forget. Bad elf! Very bad elf!” Dobby scurried over to the nearest wall and started hitting his head against the wall rhythmically. Thump. “Bad elf!” Thump. “Bad elf!”

“Dobby! Stop punishing yourself! It’s okay; I escaped on my own. Don’t hurt yourself, I order you.”

After a few more thumps, Harry was finally able to get his attention. As the house-elf turned, he wobbled a little as he walked over to Harry. “Oh, the great Harry Potter is concerned about Dobby, even when Dobby be forgetting him.”

Harry, trying to change the topic, asked, “So, Dobby, how long have you been working at Hogwarts?”

“Dobby started working at Hogwarts about one month ago.”

“I thought that now that you were free you wouldn’t want to work anymore,” said Harry.

“Dobby likes freedom, Master Harry, but he isn’t wanting too much. Dobby likes work better. Headmaster Dumbledore hired me, and he pays Dobby because I am a free elf.”

“How much are you getting paid?”

“Professor Dumbledore wanted to pay Dobby ten Galleons a week and have all weekends off, but Dobby beat him down, so he pays Dobby one Galleon a week and one day off a month,” he said very proudly.

Harry and Ginny struggled to keep from laughing at Dobby’s negotiations, when they were saved by Joppy returning with their snack. While they were eating, Ginny asked, “Do you like working here, Dobby?”

“Dobby likes it very much. It be Dobby's second most favourite place to work.”

“And where would you most like to work?” she asked.

“Why, to work for the great Harry Potter, of course.”

“Maybe someday, Dobby, but I don’t need a house-elf right now,” replied Harry, elbowing Ginny who was trying to stifle a giggle.

“Anytime Harry Potter or his Wheezy needs anything, please be calling Dobby, and Dobby will come right away.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Dobby. I think Ginny and I would like to eat our snack now.”

“Of course, Harry Potter. Eat. Eat.”

Dobby left them for other duties and while they finished their biscuits and milk, they discussed how much “help” Dobby might be in their future house, if he could get over his hero worship of Harry.

**********

The final Quidditch match of the year was quickly approaching and Ron was again working the team to exhaustion. Ravenclaw had won both of their matches and, statistically, whichever team won this match would win the Cup. At the last practice before the showdown, the Beaters were hitting Bludgers at Harry, imitating the Eagles' game plan from the last match, so that he could practice quick manoeuvring, and Harry was doing well.

However, towards the end of practice, both Peakes and Coote hit a Bludger at him simultaneously. Harry dodged the one that Jimmy sent his way without difficulty, but the one that Ritchie had hit barely missed him. Unfortunately, Harry blocked Jimmy’s view of Ritchie’s Bludger and Jimmy didn’t see it in time. It hit him square in the chest, knocking him off his broom. As he plummeted to the ground, Harry quickly turned and dove, catching him before he hit the pitch. After setting him gently on the ground, he asked, “Are you alright, Jimmy?” but Jimmy didn’t respond, unconscious and ashen. Harry checked his pulse and respirations and determined that his heart was beating and that he was breathing. Harry then gathered Jimmy back on his broom and flew through the halls of the castle to the hospital wing, having to dodge crowds of students and avoid an encounter with Peeves.

He crashed through the doors of the hospital wing and then alit from his broom, still carrying his teammate.

“What is the meaning of this?!” demanded Madam Pomfrey as she ran out from her office.

“Peakes was hit with a Bludger to the chest during Quidditch practice,” replied Harry as he gently laid Jimmy down on one of the beds. “He lost consciousness and fell from his broom. I caught him before he could hit the ground, but he was still unconscious, so I brought him here as quickly as possible.”

“Thank you, Mr Potter. It’s nice that you aren’t the patient this time.” She started waving her wand over Jimmy, while Harry watched with interest. Shortly after she started, she looked over at Harry with an annoyed look and said, “Mr Potter, your assistance is no longer needed. Would you please wait outside?”

He sat on one of the chairs outside of the ward and was soon joined by the rest of the team. After a few minutes, Madam Pomfrey came out and said, “Mr Peakes is awake now and can accept visitors for a short time. However, he needs his rest, so I only will allow you to stay for only five minutes.”

The team all went in and Ron pulled back the curtains around his bed. Jimmy still looked pale, but he had more colour than when Harry had checked him out on the pitch. “Alright there, Jimmy?” asked Ginny, tentatively.

“I guess I’m okay. It only hurts when I breathe,” he joked, with a wince as he shifted a little. “Madam Pomfrey said that I broke some ribs, which she fixed, and bruised my lungs, and I’m still a little sore.”

“That’s good; you gave us a scare out there,” said Ron.

“Thanks for getting me here so quickly, Harry. Madam Pomfrey told me how you brought me here. Must have been some fancy flying; would’ve liked to have seen it, if I wasn’t out,” he said with a weak smile.

“No problem,” responded Harry, patting him on the knee. “You’d do the same for me.”

Jimmy turned back to Ron. “Ron, I have some bad news. I should be able to leave tomorrow morning, but Madam Pomfrey won’t let me play Saturday. Sorry to let you down; I should have seen that Bludger earlier,” he said dejectedly.

“Don’t worry about it, Jimmy,” said Ron, already going through possible options in his mind. “We’ll figure something out. You just concentrate on getting better.”

Madam Pomfrey came over and herded them out of the ward and sent them off to dinner. As the team walked to the Great Hall, they strategized what to do without Jimmy. “It’s too late to find another Beater; it would take too long to get any teamwork between Ritchie and someone else,” said Ron.

“Ron, I think I have an idea,” said Harry. “Why not have me play Beater and let Lydia take my place.” He held up his hand, stopping Ron from objecting. “I know I haven’t practiced as Beater here at school, but I did a little over the Christmas holidays at the Burrow. After all, I do have a lot of experience with a bat from Muggle baseball.”

Ron thought for a moment. “I don’t know, Harry. Do you really think Lydia is ready? I know you’ve been working with her, but this is a really important match.”

Harry shrugged. “What choice do we have? I do think she is ready to catch the Snitch, but I am not sure she’s ready for the Eagles’ tactics. You saw their last match; their Beaters send the Bludgers at the Seeker relentlessly.”

“We’ll just have to protect her as best we can,” said Ron.

When they arrived at the Great Hall, they found Lydia among the other third years and called her down to the end of the table where the whole team sat down.

“Lydia, we have some bad news and some good news. The bad news is that Jimmy Peakes was injured at Quidditch practice today. He’s fine, but he isn’t going to be able to play against Ravenclaw this Saturday. The good news is that Harry is going to take his place while you are going to be our Seeker. Harry is confident that you are ready and we all have faith in your abilities. What do you say?”

Lydia’s eyes became like saucers at the news. “If you need me,” she said quietly, “I’ll try my best.”

“That’s all we can ask,” said Ron.

The news of Jimmy’s injury and the line-up change spread through the school quickly. During meals, it was obvious that the Ravenclaws were ecstatic at the possibility of facing Lydia as Seeker instead of Harry. At dinner the night before the match, the two Ravenclaw Beaters walked by the Gryffindor table, laughing and saying to each other loudly, “Forest is so small, just the wind from one of the Bludgers will probably knock her off her broom. Just think what will happen when we hit her with one.”

Lydia heard the taunt, as obviously the Ravenclaws had planned, and she turned white as a sheet before running out of the Great Hall. Harry jumped up and ran after her, finding her in a classroom, sitting on the floor, hugging her legs and sobbing. Harry walked up to her and put his arm around her. She looked up at him with tears streaming down her face. “I can’t do it, Harry! They’re going to try to kill me out there!”

Harry pulled her into his arms and let her sob against his chest. “There, there,” he said as he patted her back. After a few minutes, she settled down and took a deep breath.

“Thanks, Harry, but I am not ready. I’ve seen what it’s like in a real match and practice just isn’t the same. It’s a lot rougher and I’m scared.”

“Ron and I’ve been thinking about that. Ravenclaw uses the Bludgers very aggressively, especially against the Seeker. Even if I was Seeker, it would be challenging. The other problem we have is that Ritchie and I have had no opportunity to work on our teamwork. So, instead of Ritchie and me working as a team, Ritchie is going to try to protect the Chasers and you and I are going to work together.” Lydia’s face brightened a little at this news. “Our Chasers are good enough that they don’t need both of us protecting them. I am going to be your shield. I promise that I will do my best to keep those Bludgers away from you. I don’t want you to worry about the Bludgers; I’ll take care of them. All of your attention needs to be on finding that Snitch. Think you can do that?”

Lydia sniffed and said, “I can try.” Harry tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“No. Try not. Do … or do not. There is no try.”

Lydia, who was Muggle-born and recognized the reference, giggled. “Okay,” she said more confidently. “I can do it, if you’re with me, Harry.”

Harry stood up and held out his hands. “Come on; let’s go back to the common room.” He pulled her up, put his arm around her, and started walking through the hallways back to Gryffindor. “We need to get our minds off Quidditch; you up for a game of Exploding Snap?”

At breakfast the next morning, Harry could tell that Lydia was getting nervous again. “You really need to eat something, even if it’s just a little bit; you never know how long the match is going to last.”

“I know, but I don’t think I can. I’m afraid I’m just going to throw it back up.”

“I know how you feel; I felt the same way before my first match, but you need to eat a little. Just a few bites of toast, please?”

Lydia took a small bite and gave Harry a half-hearted smile. “Good girl. Now, just a few more bites and I’ll stop bothering you.”

She did as she was told and was able to finish one slice of toast before the team rose to head down to the pitch. But as they walked to the changing room Harry could see that the fear had gripped her again. Harry tapped Ron on the shoulder, tilted his head toward Lydia, and strode over to her and said, “Let’s take a walk.”

Harry didn’t say anything for a few minutes as they walked around behind the stands to avoid the students that were starting to arrive to watch the match. “I remember a baseball game three years ago when I was playing on the JV team, which was basically our reserve team. The person who played my position on the starting team sprained his ankle during warm-ups and couldn’t play. Here I was, planning on sitting on the bench and cheering my heart out to support the team, but all of a sudden, I had to play. And I was petrified. But I played and I did okay. I didn’t get any hits –which means I didn’t help score any points–and I did commit one error, but we still won the game. The world didn’t end with my mistakes and my teammates helped pull us through. One of the older players pulled me aside afterwards and made sure that I knew that, even though I didn’t help, and actually even hurt the team, I was still an important member of the team and that they didn’t think any less of me.

“It doesn’t matter what you do out there today, Lydia. Whether we win or lose, we win or lose as a team, and, regardless of whether you get the Snitch or not, you are an important part of our team.”

He stopped walking and turned, putting a finger under her chin so that she looked him in the eyes. “I also want to tell you that the time we have spent together these last few months working on Quidditch and Defence has meant a lot to me, and I feel that we have a special relationship. You are like the little sister that I never had. And there are two consequences of that. First, your big brother,” he said, pointing his thumb at his chest, “is not going to let anything happen to you out there today. Second, I love you, and nothing you do on the pitch today is going to change that.” He pulled her into a hug and kissed her on the forehead. “I want you to remember those two facts as we fly out of the changing room in a few moments. Are you ready?”

With tears in her eyes, she said, “Yes.”

“Then, let’s go kick some Badger arse! We better hurry back before Ron panics that he has lost two of his players.”

Ron was starting to get a little worried when they finally walked into the changing room, Harry’s arm around Lydia. “About time you two showed up. It’s almost time for introductions.”

Harry replied, “Just giving a pep talk to our star Seeker, Captain,” as he gave her a squeeze. She responded by giving Harry a weak smile.

As the match began, it was obvious that the Ravenclaw strategy was exactly what Ron and Harry thought it would be. Their Beaters tried to intimidate Lydia from the start by hitting Bludgers at her, but Harry protected her well.

“And Harry Potter intercepts the sixth Bludger of the match that was meant for the new Gryffindor Seeker,” commented Sally-Ann Perks, who was commentating the match. “With Potter protecting Forest exclusively, that leaves Coote, the other Gryffindor Beater, as the lone defender of the team’s Chasers. A very unusual strategy, and we’ll see how it works for the Lions. With as aggressively as Ravenclaw is playing today, he seems to be holding his own at the moment. This will be an interesting match, ladies and gentlemen.”

Despite these comments, Ginny, Demelza, and Dean didn’t need much help, they were so skilled at their positions and seemed to know when the Ravenclaw Beaters had sent the Bludgers their way.

As the match progressed, Harry discovered that he didn’t have as much to do as Lydia starting dodging the Bludgers by herself just fine. This pleased Harry, who tuned into Sally-Ann’s commentary again.

“That’s another goal for Chaser Ginny Weasley, making the score 180 — 70, in favour of Gryffindor, ladies and gentlemen. To recap a bit, Weasley has made ten of the Gryffindor team’s eighteen goals, which is helping the team to maintain a comfortable lead over Ravenclaw. However, they still need another couple of goals for Gryffindor to clinch the Quidditch Cup. That puts some pressure on Forest to catch the Snitch before Michael Corner does…”

Harry started keeping an eye on Corner after that. He’d learned from Ginny–who had dated Corner briefly her fourth year–that Corner was a sore loser and was not above using sneaky tactics. After a while, Harry became tired of how closely the Ravenclaw Seeker was following Lydia and decided to teach him a lesson.

“Time for a Feint,” he whispered to Lydia as he flew past her, going the same direction, and then yelling, “Lydia, look, the Snitch!”

Lydia, taking the hint, shot off as quickly as she could with Corner on her tail. Harry flew just behind them in case any Bludgers were sent their way. As he flew, Harry marvelled at how well Lydia was flying; she easily was outdistancing Corner who was leaning into his broom to get every last bit of speed out of it. As Harry had taught her, Lydia suddenly dove towards the ground at breakneck speed, reaching out her hand as if the Snitch was there. At the last minute, though, she pulled up and flew back up into the sky. Corner wasn’t so skilled, and he ploughed right into the ground with a sickening thud.

“A textbook Wronski Feint by Forest,” cried Sally-Ann. “Corner is down and Madam Hooch blows the whistle to pause play and allow him to be checked.”

Harry flew over to Lydia and gave her a high five, saying, “Great flying! You look great out here today.”

Lydia responded with a huge smile.

After several minutes, Corner was recovered enough to get back on his broom, but he still looked a little wobbly; he didn’t shadow Lydia nearly as closely for the rest of the match. About thirty minutes later, Gryffindor had built a lead of 130 and Harry had just hit another Bludger away from Lydia when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lydia streak away.

“Forest is flying quickly toward the Ravenclaw hoops,” said Sally-Ann. “Has she spotted the Snitch or is it another ploy? Yes, the Snitch is near the Ravenclaw Keeper! Corner is caught unaware and has no chance at it. Oh, she dodges a Bludger sent by Boot and is still on the hunt. There’s another Bludger from Goldstein and she ducks under it with no problem. She is reaching out for the Snitch, and she has it! Forest wins the match and Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor 380-100!”

Lydia landed her broom, holding the Snitch up in her right hand. Harry reached her just as she landed, gave her a hug before the rest of the team arrived and knocked them down, resulting in a mass of wildly celebrating teens. The rest of the Gryffindor house stormed the field and Harry lifted Lydia up on his shoulder, starting a cheer of “For-est! For-est!” which was taken up by the rest of the house. Madam Hooch approached the crowd and awarded the Quidditch Cup to Ron, who then flew up to Professor McGonagall to give it to her.

**********

The next few weeks were very busy, with revising for NEWTs, so Harry and Ginny had little time alone together. At first, Ginny didn’t think much about it, but as time went on, she started to wonder if Harry was actually avoiding being alone with her. Their relationship was no different at meals, walking the hallways, or even revising in the common room, but whenever Ginny suggested taking a break, Harry said he couldn’t stop right then, and by the time he would finish, she had fallen asleep at his side.

One evening, after several hours of revising, Ginny looked up at Harry and saw that he was no longer studying his Defence book, but was studying her. She smiled at him and walked over to him, pulling him up. “Come on, we are taking a break, no matter what you say. Honestly, Harry, you are worse than Hermione recently.” She led him out of the common room to the Room of Requirement. After pacing back and forth three times, they entered to find a cosy room with a plush sofa sitting in front a blazing fire. Harry sat down, leaning against one end and Ginny snuggled up next to him and pulled a blanket over them. “Isn’t this better?” she asked as she rested her head against his chest.

“Yes, much better. I’ve missed this.”

They just held each other for a while, but then Ginny started kissing Harry’s neck. She slowly worked her way up his neck, to his ear, and then over to his mouth. His mouth opened slightly, allowing her tongue to enter, causing goose bumps to form all over his back. He pulled her closer, his hands roaming over her back. When his hands slipped under the hem of her jumper and touched skin, they both felt a tingling at their point of contact. As Harry’s hands wandered a little higher up her back, suddenly he stopped, pulled his hands out from underneath her jumper, and pulled his lips away. “I’m sorry, Ginny, but we have to stop.”

“Why, Harry? What’s wrong?”

Harry stood up and began pacing the room before he began to explain. “I just can’t get the image of Pansy posing as you out of my mind. Whenever we start to … er, um, get physical, I see your body as I saw it that night. And believe me, you are beautiful, which is why I keep seeing you. And I can’t wait to see you again. But then I am reminded that it was actually Pansy, and I am revolted. I can’t help it. It’s like I get excited and disgusted at the same time.” His face turned downward. “Voldemort has managed to corrupt our relationship with his ploy, so maybe he didn’t fail.”

Ginny stood up and put her hand on his arm. “Maybe with time, the memory will fade.”

“I just wish I could get rid of the memory all together. The first time I see you like that should have been one that I would remember fondly for the rest of my life, a beautiful moment only the two of us could share, but now that moment has been ruined.” He turned away in frustration, kicking at the wall. “I just wish I could take that memory out and throw it away like it never happened.”

A few moments later, Ginny asked, “Would you really rather get rid of that memory?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, this might be a little desperate, but we could have Hermione Obliviate you so that it would be removed. She’d probably end up removing the memory of the whole evening, but I think it might be worth it.”

“Ginny, that is a great idea!” He hugged her, lifting her feet off the ground, and spinning her around. “Let’s go find her now.”

So it was that a few hours later, Harry no longer had any memory of that night and could look forward to that special moment without the corrupting recollection of Pansy’s plan.

A/N: There have been some reviews that have suggested that Obliviating Harry’s memory of his encounter with Pansy seems too drastic. They may be right, but I wanted to explain my reasoning. Basically, Harry is a victim of an attempted rape, and what I was attempting to portray in this chapter was the common difficulty that many rape victims experience in re-establishing intimacy. That may not be true of all rape victims, but it certainly is not uncommon. I am sure that many rape victims would love to have their memories removed of their experience.

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Chapter 35: Tensions

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay on this chapter, but beta Arnel and I have been working hard to get the next three chapters just right, since they are so pivotal to the story. Thanks for all of her help.


Tensions

While the stress among the fifth and seventh year students increased as O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s neared, anxiety was also increasing in the Wizarding world as the Death Eaters had begun a new campaign of terror. Almost every day, The Daily Prophet would have several stories on Muggles, Muggleborn, or past enemies of Voldemort from the first war being attacked, tortured, raped, and even killed. Houses were being destroyed, and Dark Marks were seen above them, showing that they were not afraid of the authorities. The many atrocities chronicled in The Prophet had a very sobering effect on everyone at Hogwarts, but especially Harry. The stories obviously hit him hard and he tended to much quieter than usual whenever The Prophet reported bad news. He eventually decided to skip breakfast most days so that he wouldn’t have to see the reports and hear all the discussion of it. He also tended to try to be alone more often, stating that he needed to do homework by himself, but Ginny could tell that, instead of studying, he was brooding over the Death Eater activity.

It all came to a head one day at lunch. At breakfast, Adelaide Russell, a second year Ravenclaw, and her older brother, Aiden, a sixth year of the same house, were called to the Headmaster’s office by Professor Flitwick. After they had left, the owls arrived, bearing the news in The Daily Prophet that their parents and ten-year-old sister had been viciously tortured and killed and their house had been burnt down to the ground. This was the first time current students had lost their families since the new series of attacks had started, and this cast a pall over the student body. While the students ate lunch quietly, Adelaide and Aiden came into the Great Hall to say goodbye to their friends before leaving to help with funeral arrangements. As they were leaving the Hall, they walked by the Gryffindor table and Harry stood up to offer his condolences as he had worked with Aiden a few times in Transfiguration class. “I am really sorry to hear about your family. I know what it is like to lose your parents suddenly, and if there is anything I can do to help you out, let me know.”

Aiden’s face contorted in anger at Harry’s comments. “Haven’t you done enough already, Potter?” he spat back at him. “If it weren’t for you, Voldemort wouldn’t even have returned and my family would still be alive! You’re just as much to blame for this as the Death Eaters! And what are you doing about it, you bloody ‘Boy-Who-Lived’? Absolutely nothing! You just sit here where it’s safe while others have to pay the consequences! Bugger off, and don’t ever speak to either of us again!” He pushed Harry aside, put an arm around his sister, who had started crying, and strode out of the Hall.

Harry’s face turned downward as the Russells left and Ginny came over and tried to console him, saying, “He didn’t mean it, Harry. He’s just in shock; he doesn’t know what he is saying.”

She put an arm around his shoulders, but he shrugged it off and muttered, “No, he’s right; it is my fault,” as he left the hall himself.

No one saw Harry for the rest of the day; he skived off his afternoon classes and he also skipped dinner. Ginny was worried about him, but Hermione had advised her to let him have some space. She was unable to sleep because of her anxiety and the emotions she could feel roiling from Harry, so she was sitting up in the common room after midnight when she felt Harry’s presence go past her and then saw the portrait hole open and close on its own. He must be under his Invisibility Cloak, she thought. Where is he going at this hour? She quickly decided to follow him. Using her ability to tell where he was, she was able to stay far enough behind him that he didn’t see her, but close enough that she didn’t lose him. As he approached the front doors in the Entrance Hall, she knew he was planning on leaving so she ran up to the doors and whispered, “Harry! I know you’re there! Take off you cloak and talk to me! What do you think you are doing?”

Harry removed his Invisibility Cloak, revealing himself wearing a heavy cloak and carrying a rucksack.

“So, where do you think you are going?” she asked, hands on her hips.

Harry stifled a laugh. When she shot a furious look at him, he said, “Sorry, you really look like your mom when you stand like that.”

His comment did nothing to quell her anger. “Are you going to answer my question?” she asked, tapping her foot.

Harry looked down. “Russell was right today. It is my fault that his parents are dead because Voldemort used me to regain his body. The prophecy says that I am the only one who can defeat him and I am doing nothing to beat him. I am just staying here while he is torturing and killing at will. I need to do something, so I am leaving to go find him.”

Ginny walked over to him and wagged her finger at him. He took a step backward and bumped into a wall. He leaned against it as she continued to imitate her mother. “Now, listen here, Potter. First, the fact that Riddle is back is NOT your fault and not one of the lives he has taken since then is your fault either. He used you, just like he used me during my first year. You told me that wasn’t my fault and neither is this yours. He is the one at fault, not you.

“Second, while the prophecy says that you are the one who can defeat him, it doesn’t say when. You are not ready to defeat him yet. You are forgetting the other part of the prophecy: you have the ‘power he knows not.’ And what is that power? It’s love and you can’t defeat him without it. If you try to go after him on your own, you are leaving that power behind because I won’t be with you. Without love, without me, you can’t beat him. We haven’t figured how to do that yet, but we are getting closer. Hermione is working hard on finding a way to use the Soul Bond because she loves you too. Ron is trying to come up with some strategy that we can use because he loves you. Luna loves you. Neville loves you. Mum and Dad love you. We all love you, but without that love, you don’t have a chance against him. Sorry to tell you, but you are a just a teenager who didn’t even know he was a wizard a year ago. While your progress has been remarkable, we are talking about the most powerful wizard other than Dumbledore living today.” She grabbed his hands, pleading with her eyes. “Please, Harry, wait until you and I are ready. Think about our dream; we are going to end it, but we are going to end it together, not by you going off on your own.”

Harry averted his eyes, his expression bleak, as he slid down the wall he was leaning against. After several long moments of staring at his knees, he said, “You’re right; I’m not ready. I know that, but what Russell said today really hit me hard.” He finally looked up again and gazed into her eyes as if begging her to understand. “Sometimes I feel so powerless and like I could just collapse underneath the weight of this responsibility. I just want to do something about it.”

Ginny sat down next to him and put her arm around him. “I understand that, Harry, and you are doing something. You are training, getting stronger magically, learning how the Soul Bond affects our magic, but going off without any plan and without me,” she emphasized by pointing at herself, “is not going to get you anywhere and would likely get you killed. Promise me you won’t try to run off without me again?”

Harry paused for a moment before answering. “I promise. I guess I need to control this impulsiveness that seems to be part of my nature.” He opened his arms and pulled her into them, squeezing her. “Ginny, thanks again for bringing me back to rationality. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Ginny chuckled. “You probably would be doing foolhardy things like trying to smuggle dangerous creatures in and out of the school, duelling Malfoy at regular intervals, or maybe even going off into the Forbidden Forest at night. And you would probably be dragging Hermione and Ron into your adventures as well,” she finished with a smirk.

Before he could reply, they froze because they heard Filch’s voice coming from around the corner saying, “Do I hear students out of bed in the middle of the night? Let’s catch them, Mrs Norris.” Harry quickly threw his Cloak over the two of them and not a second too soon as Mrs Norris appeared just as it covered their feet. She sniffed and walked cautiously toward them as if she could sense they were there. She started hissing at them and Filch asked, “Is there something there, my sweet?”

Ginny, trying to think of something to do to avoid detection, spotted a medium sized spider walking nearby, made a quick swish of her wand and it transfigured into a mouse. She then sent a stinging hex at it, causing it to scamper away from them. Mrs Norris noticed the scurrying rodent and chased after it like a shot. Filch muttered, “She must have smelled the mouse,” and chased after her.

After Filch had turned the corner, Harry whispered, “Impressive, Miss Weasley! Nonverbal cross-species Transfiguration. I am tempted to tell McGonagall about this to see if you could earn some house points, but I don’t want to have to explain what we were doing in the halls this late.” He stood up and held out his hand to help her up.

“You’re not the only one who can do powerful magic through the Soul Bond, you know,” she replied smiling as they directed their footsteps back towards the Tower. “We better get back to the dorms before we get caught by someone else.”

**********

Once he followed through on Harry’s suggestion concerning his wand, Neville had also been working very hard. He had already been working out with the Quidditch team in the mornings, but added two to three mornings that he exercised on his own to improve his strength and endurance. But things changed when he purchased his new wand. At first it was difficult, almost like learning magic all over again, but as he practiced, he found that he was indeed a powerful wizard; he took to training with a passion that surprised everyone. Hannah was having some of the concerns about Neville that Harry had warned him about, and did make sure he took some time out for recreational activities, but his single-mindedness was noticed by his friends, and Hannah wasn’t the only one concerned.

“What’s gotten into Neville lately?” asked Ron one day at breakfast. Neville had just come from the Gryffindor Tower, his hair still wet from a shower and his face flushed with exertion. “He’s been working out almost every morning.”

“Have you noticed him in class, too?” asked Hermione. “He is asking more questions, constantly looking for applications for what we are learning. And other than you and Ginny, Harry, I don’t think anyone else in the DA could beat him in a duel. It’s like he is on a mission.”

Harry thought for a moment on how to respond. He knew he couldn’t betray Neville’s trust by telling his friends about Neville’s motivation, but he also felt as if Ron and Hermione deserved an answer. “War changes everyone. You two do remember that he was hurt when the Death Eaters attacked Hogsmeade, don’t you? Perhaps that battle finally opened his eyes, making him realize that he is going to have to fight and not just leave it to the adults. I think he is just more focused than you are used to. I’m sure he’ll be alright.”

Ron and Hermione seemed to accept Harry’s explanation, but he did notice that Hermione seemed to be watching Neville closely over the next several days.

**********

That evening, during DA training, Harry and Neville were sparring without magic. During the spring, Tonks spent several DA sessions teaching hand-to-hand combat techniques that were taught to Aurors, and two seventh years were practising what they had learned. Harry eventually gained the upper hand and sent Neville to the ground. Harry was leaning over to help Neville up, but Neville didn’t stop, and struck suddenly with a hard kick to the inside of Harry’s ankle. Harry’s ankle buckled and everyone in the room heard a loud crack as he fell to the ground, grabbing his ankle. It started swelling immediately, and when he tried to get up, Harry found that he couldn’t put any weight on it. Neville and Ron helped him to hospital wing, with Neville apologizing the whole way. Madam Pomfrey confirmed what Harry had guessed, that he had a fractured ankle.

“Harry, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Neville said after Madam Pomfrey had finished healing the fracture.

“No worries, Neville. I stopped fighting when I shouldn’t have. Remember what Tonks said one of her senior Aurors always emphasized, ‘Constant Vigilance!’”

**********

Molly and Arthur Weasley were just finishing breakfast one Sunday morning when they heard a tapping at the window. Molly arose and opened the window, letting in a beautiful white owl with a letter and small package attached to its leg. The owl held her leg out to Molly, indicating that the letter was for her. Confused as to who would be sending her a package this time of the year, she took them and opened the envelope first.

May 8th, 1998

Dear Molly,

In the States, the second Sunday is the celebration of Mother’s Day. It is customary for children to give their mothers a gift showing their appreciation for all she does for them. A year ago, I made my mom breakfast in bed and gave her a card and some flowers. Looking back, I wished I had done more, to really show her how I felt about her, as it would be the last Mother’s Day we would have together. I don’t want to make that mistake again. I know we haven’t known each other very long, but your love for your children is so apparent in the way you treat them, and their love for you is just as obvious. I want to thank you for the wonderful mother you have been to my best friend and to my wife-to-be. It is because of the way that you raised them that they were able to accept me, befriend me, support me, and love me.

More personally, I want to thank you for the way you embraced me (literally and figuratively) and welcomed me into your family. I am sure it was not easy to accept that your ‘baby girl’ had a serious boyfriend who declared to you that he loved her, but you were happy for her and us. My first Christmas without my parents could have been very challenging to get through, but you and your family helped me through it. My Weasley jumper is one of my favourite Christmas presents ever, because it reminds me both of my mother’s love and yours. The weather is starting to get a little warm to wear it now, but I still do because of the feelings it evokes.

Then, you found out that I was deceiving you, learned who I really was, and that your daughter’s relationship with me was putting you and her in danger. Most people would have at least thought about the risks, but, no, you jumped up immediately and hugged me and even stopped any debate about the safety of your family to keep me in your lives. I am sure it was also not easy to give me your most precious gift, your still underage daughter, but you did, and that is something I will be thankful for the rest of my life.

Because of all this, please accept this small token of thanks for all you have done for me. Every time I see you wearing it, it will remind me of how completely you have accepted me into your family and your heart.

Love,

Your seventh “son”,

Harry

Molly then removed the wrapping from the small present, revealing a velvet covered box. When she opened it, she found a gold lightning bolt charm. With tears traveling down her cheeks, she happily added it to her bracelet.

**********

Everyone was eating breakfast in the Great Hall when the morning owl post arrived. Harry and Ginny did not receive any mail, so they were finishing their meal when they heard a shout of joy from down the table. They looked up from their food and saw Lydia jump up and run toward them, holding the letter up in the air. “Harry! Ginny! I’ve got a place to stay this summer!”

Harry smiled at his honorary little sister. The two had spent a lot of time together over the last term, meeting at least once a week. Sometimes they worked on her flying and Seeker skills, but many times they just talked in an empty classroom or the Room of Requirement. Sometime in February, Lydia had finally confided to Harry what had happened the night her parents had been killed.

“My Gran and Gramps, my mum’s parents, you know, my magical grandparents, came over for dinner, and my parents invited Grandmum and Grandpa, my dad’s parents also. After dinner, I left to stay overnight with one of my old friends from before Hogwarts that lived about ten kilometres outside of the village.

“Amy and I had just started a game of Cluedo when we heard sirens in the distance. We went outside and could see a glow coming from the direction of the village. Her dad told us to put our coats on and he drove us to the village. As we approached, we could see several homes on fire, but the police had established a road block, so we couldn’t get close enough to see anything else. When I tried to run to my house, I was held back by Amy’s dad. It was then I saw a skull and snake in the smoke over the village. When I asked Amy’s dad what it was, he was confused by my question because he couldn’t see anything. It was then I realized that wizards must be involved. Amy’s dad was allowed through the barricade so he could help the villagers fight the fires. We just waited in the car, huddled in the back, hoping for any good news. After about two hours, Amy’s dad returned, his face blackened with soot. He had me get out of the car. He knelt down in front of me. He told me that my house was safe, but everyone in it was dead, my parents and all four of my grandparents.”

Harry was struck by how detached she seemed as she told her story, but remembered that he acted similarly when he talked to people after his parents had been killed. He fought the urge to hold her, as he sensed that she didn’t need comfort just yet, but needed to get the whole story off her chest.

Her head was down, her eyes focused on her hands as she continued, “He took me to my house to let me gather some more of my things, since I would be staying with their family longer than I had originally planned. I stopped at the threshold of the front door, as I didn’t know if I could do it, but I summoned my Gryffindor courage and stepped through the doorway.

“It was obvious they had cleaned up, as my family’s bodies weren’t there and some furniture was missing. I tried not to look around too much as I walked through the living room, but I couldn’t help but notice the small pieces of broken glass and splinters of wood they had missed. I even saw some small flecks of blood on the wall as I climbed the stairs to my room, but none of it seemed real. I felt like I was watching a crime show on the telly, not like it was my house, my family that had been attacked. In a daze, I packed some clothes and such, with some guidance from Amy’s dad. We were leaving and I was just about to the front door when I saw something black on the floor. I knelt down, picked it up, and saw that it was my dog Quinn’s collar. It was stained with blood.

“I looked up at Mr Norton and he shook his head. ‘I’m sorry lass, but Quinn was killed by the bastards too. It looked like he was trying to protect your family when he was struck down.’ He paused before adding, ‘Quinn always was a great guard dog.’

“For some reason, finding his collar broke open the floodgates and I just collapsed to the floor and cried.” She looked up at Harry, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Harry sensed this was the moment that she needed to be held and pulled her onto his lap and rocked her back and forth as she was racked with sobs. After a few minutes she calmed down and Harry conjured a handkerchief for her. She wiped her face and looked up at Harry, embarrassed. “Sorry about that,” she said as she sniffed.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” replied Harry.

“I don’t understand why I didn’t cry for my family, but I did for my dog. Afterwards, I felt horrible, as if I loved Quinn more than my parents.”

Harry shrugged. “Sometimes our feelings just don’t make sense. I remember, a few days after my parents were killed, I thought I was done with the tears. I had made it a whole day without getting even a little bit misty, and, I have to admit, I felt proud that I could be strong and not give into the sadness anymore.

“But, as I was getting ready for bed, I noticed that I was almost out of toothpaste. I was looking at the empty tube in my hand, and thought, Who is going to buy me more toothpaste? And I broke down in tears right there in the bathroom. I went back to my bed, weeping uncontrollably, but also feeling ridiculous that a silly tube of toothpaste caused me to cry again. I knew that I was perfectly capable of buying toothpaste myself, but that was something my mom always did for me.”

He wiped at a tear that was threatening to drip from his own eye. “See what I mean? After almost eight months, the memory of that night still affects me. You never know what is going to set you off.” He sniffed and took a deep breath. “But I can promise you that it does get better with time. I still cry for my parents sometimes, but it happens less and less. Just give it time.”

Lydia gave Harry a hug this time and said, “Thanks, Harry. I know I can get through this, especially with your help.”

Then a few weeks ago, after the incident with the Russells, they had had another difficult conversation.

“Harry, I don’t know what I am going to do this summer,” Lydia said in tears. “I have no family to live with and I don’t have any close friends I can stay with.”

“What about your friend Amy?” asked Harry. “It sounds like you are close.”

“Believe me, I’ve thought about that, and they offered. But, with the war escalating, I’m afraid that I would put them at risk, since I am considered by the Death Eaters a Mudblood. I can’t do that to them,” she sobbed.

Harry held her as she cried. “What about orphanages?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never heard of a Wizarding orphanage,” she replied. “Who would we ask?”

“I think Professor McGonagall is who we should start with,” Harry replied. “I’m sure this has happened before, if not recently, then during the last war.” Harry had walked her to the office of their Head of House and explained to her Lydia’s situation, because she was too upset to talk.

“No, there are no Wizarding orphanages, since most wizards and witches have at least some extended family,” replied the professor when he asked the question. “The British Wizarding community is small enough that most of the major families are related.” She turned to Harry and said, “Even the Potters and Weasleys are related,” she said with a wink.

Harry felt the blood rush from his head as his mouth gaped open. “You mean, Ginny and I are related?” he asked.

Professor McGonagall chuckled. “Don’t you worry, Mr Potter. Yes, you and Miss Weasley are probably thirteenth cousins, eight times removed or something like that. Not close enough that the two of you getting married is a problem.” Harry let out a sigh of relief. “The good news, Miss Forest, is that you probably have relatives through your grandparents whom you are unaware of. We just have to find them.”

“How would we do that?” asked Lydia, her voice filled with hope for the first time that day.

“I will start doing some research for you and see what I can find,” said the professor. “Don’t you worry. I’ll find somewhere for you to stay this summer.”

Lydia asked them to follow her into a deserted classroom so they could talk in privacy. “Who did Professor McGonagall find for you?” asked Harry.

She hesitated before starting. “Before I tell you, I need to explain something. A few days ago, Professor McGonagall told me that she had found a relative, and, as head of my family, he actually would be expected to take me in. She was able to contact him and she asked if he would let me stay with him, and he just replied that he would.” She paused and looked intently at Harry. “The problem is that he had been in some trouble with the law. She reassured me that he was actually innocent of the charges, but was still in hiding from the authorities. He’s not anything like he is portrayed in the press. So, don’t go spare when I tell you who it is.”

“Okay,” said Harry warily.

“It seems that I am second cousins with Sirius Black.” She paused, expecting Harry and Ginny to react, but instead they just chuckled. She looked back and forth between them. “You don’t believe me, do you?” she pouted. “It’s the truth; I am related to Sirius Black!”

Harry and Ginny laughed even harder, making Lydia even angrier. After a few moments, Harry was able to gain control of himself. “Lydia, sorry about that. We do believe you. It’s just that we know all about Sirius and his innocence. Ginny here was the one who figured out that he couldn’t have done what they said he did.”

Ginny added, “You helped put the pieces together, too, Harry.”

Harry shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Anyway, Sirius is my godfather, and he actually acted as our chaperone over the Easter holiday. I think it’s great that you will get to stay with him this summer. He’s a great guy and you’ll have a great time.”

“What’s Sirius like?” asked Lydia cautiously. She held up the parchment in her hand. “He seems nice enough in the letter he wrote to me, but … I just don’t know. Is it going to be weird spending the summer with a complete stranger?”

“I’m sure it will be a little awkward, especially at first,” encouraged Ginny. “But Sirius is really nice. You’ll definitely like him. He’s lots of fun. Make sure to ask him about some of his shenanigans while he was at Hogwarts with Harry’s parents. Do you remember my twin brothers and the pranks they played?” When Lydia nodded, she added, “Fred and George idolize a group of pranksters called the Marauders and tried to emulate them. Sirius and Harry’s dad were two of the Marauders and some of their hijinks put my brothers to shame,” she said with a grin.

“And we’ll be around a lot, too,” Harry said. “When we were with him over the Easter holiday, we made plans to visit him as often as we could, especially since he can’t go out much. Now we have an additional reason to come visit, to see you, too.”

Lydia let out a sigh of relief. “That will be great.”

“But be careful of his dog, Padfoot,” Ginny said with a cheeky grin. “He needs a firm hand or he will really take advantage of you. If you let him, he’ll want to be petted constantly and try to sit in your lap, even though he is way too big to be a lapdog. Let him know who is boss right away, and you’ll get along fine.” She looked over at Harry, who was trying hard not to laugh, and narrowed her eyes, warning him not to give her prank away.

Harry regained control and added, “Yes, Padfoot is a good dog, although he does seem to favour girls, so I am sure that he will like you.” He looked up at the clock on the wall and said, “We better get off to class; don’t want the professors to take points for tardiness.”

**********

N.E.W.T.s were three days away and the seventh-year students were all tense. Not the least of these was Hermione Granger. She was driving everyone crazy with her revising plans, her insistence at eating as quickly as her boyfriend, Ron, her persistent fear that she was going to forget everything she had learned over the last seven years, and, most of all, her temper that threatened to blow anytime that anyone made a noise louder than a pin drop. One evening she was in the library, sitting at a table piled so high with books that she could hardly be seen. Ron, Harry, Neville, Luna, and Ginny were sitting across the room at their own table, since there was no room for anyone else at Hermione’s. They were all struggling to stay awake as they had all been revising nonstop over the last few days. They were immersed in their revising when they heard a pile of books crash to the ground and then a scream of “NO!!” coming from Hermione. The other Gryffindors stood up in a flash and were by her side in moments and she collapsed into Ron’s arms, sobbing.

Madam Pince came up to them and hissed, “Out, all of you! It is almost closing time anyway. And clean up this mess before you leave.” They all helped Hermione pick up the fallen books, and sorted out which ones stayed in the library and which ones were Hermione’s. They were astounded when only four were the property of Hogwarts.

“How are we going to get all these back to the dorm?” asked Neville.

Hermione came out of her daze to answer, “That’s easy. I put an Undetectable Extension Charm on the inside my rucksack; that’s how I carried them all here.” She started piling all of the books into her bag while she was sniffing and wiping at her tears, causing everyone to gape at her.

“Wicked, Hermione. Sometimes I forget how amazing you are,” said Ron.

As soon as they were out of the library and away from Madam Pince’s disapproving gaze, Ginny asked Hermione, “What happened in there? What upset you so much?”

Hermione sniffed again, and then said, “I had another vision. It’s just too horrible!” before she dove her face into Ron’s chest again.

Ron stroked her hair and said, “Hush, hush, my Hermione. All the other visions came out okay; tell us what you saw.”

“I don’t know how this can come out okay,” said Hermione tremulously.

“What do you mean?” asked Ron.

“I saw Harry die,” whispered Hermione.

Back to index


Chapter 36: Toad in the Hole

Author's Notes: Thanks again to Arnel for her beta work. Originally, I had this chapter and the next together in one chapter, and, although I wanted to separate them, neither one was long enough to stand on its own. She gave me several ideas to expand each chapter and I hope you will agree that the finished product is much the better for it.


Toad in the Hole

The silence in the hallway was deafening after Hermione told them that she had seen Harry’s death in her latest vision. After a few moments, Ron gathered up Hermione and they all went to the Room of Requirement. Ginny configured the room with three love seats arranged in a triangle.

When everyone had sat down, Ron put his arm around Hermione and patted her shoulder. “Just tell us, slowly, from the beginning.”

Hermione sniffed and said almost robotically, “It was very short, like the others. Ginny is tied up to a tree, probably in the Forbidden Forest. Harry walks up and as he approaches her, I notice Voldemort and a witch are standing near Ginny. The witch points her wand at Ginny and Ginny screams for a few moments. I’m guessing that she was keeping Harry away from her with a threat of torturing her more. Voldemort says something to Harry, but I can never hear any voices in my visions. Harry then throws his wand toward Voldemort. and kneels before him. Next, Ginny screams in pain again for a few seconds. After she is done screaming, Harry stares at her for a moment, and looks back at Voldemort. Harry kneels before Voldemort, Voldemort raises his wand and a green light travels toward Harry, hitting him in the chest and he collapses on the ground, dead. I could see him lying there, his eyes glazed over, staring off into space. Then, the vision ended.” Hermione buried her face in Ron’s chest one more time as she began sobbing again. Ginny did the same against Harry’s chest.

After a few moments, Harry asked, “Hermione, do you have any idea when this vision is going to take place?”

Hermione shook her head. “I couldn’t tell, Harry. But most of my other visions occurred pretty soon after I had them,” she answered shakily.

“Well,” said Harry, with a confidence that he didn’t really feel, “I survived the Killing Curse once; I guess I’ll need to find a way to survive it again.”

The next few days were filled with researching a totally different subject and all six students immersed themselves in the task of finding a solution to this problem. Hermione was evicted from the library at closing time every night, and was even found there twice by Filch in the middle of the night, asleep with her head on an opened book from the Restricted Section. On orders from Dumbledore, he just woke her up and sent her back to her dorm. The others worked almost as tirelessly, but no answer was found. Harry stayed with Ginny as much as possible, hoping to prevent them from being separated which would allow the events of Hermione’s vision to transpire, although Harry privately felt that there was probably little they could do to stop the vision from occurring.

**********

June 16, 1998

Dear Aaron,

The school year is winding down. I have survived the end of year exams, but I am nearly exhausted from all the revising (that’s what they call studying here) and then the exams themselves. For each class we are taking we had a written exam that lasted the entire morning and in the afternoon we had to take an oral portion. Boy, am I glad that they’re over. I’m also glad I’m not taking as many classes as my friend Hermione. I’m still not sure how she handled it all. I think I did okay. Some of the written portions were hard as they covered material from previous years, but I received some excellent feedback on a few of the oral exams. We should be receiving our results about a week after school is over.

After the exams, we had a day set aside for our research project presentations. Each of the seventh-year students was given ten minutes to summarize what they had learned from their project. Some were fascinating, others not so much. Afterwards, there was a special banquet for the seventh-year students and the faculty, and the cooks really outdid themselves. It was definitely the best meal I have had here at school.

After the dinner my friends and I were sitting in the common room of our dorm talking about our futures, which are going to be incredibly diverse. Dean is going to be attending art school in France. Seamus is going back home to Ireland to help his mother run the family pub. Neville is going to be studying botany. Ron is going to give professional soccer a try. (Professional Quidditch actually, but Harry didn’t think he could explain how a supposedly intramural sport could lead to a professional sports career.) Hermione is going to university, but she isn’t sure what she is going to study yet. (It was a still a ‘mystery’ what the Department of Mysteries was going to have Hermione research, and it could possibly stay a mystery.) Lavender and Parvati are hoping to open a small boutique selling make-up and accessories, focusing on the teen and young adult market. Of course, you already know my plans.

As I look back on my year here, it’s ironic to recall how nervous I was when the school year started, as I have made such good friends. The sad truth is that, as close as we are, there is a good chance that we may not see each other ever again. We’ve all said that we’ll keep in touch, but I know that probably won’t happen. I guess you’re probably going through the same emotions as you are attending all of those graduation parties.

Or maybe you think I’ve become a girl with all this sappy stuff. Enough of that. Hope the rest of your senior year went well. I hope the baseball playoffs went well, too. Write back soon.

Your friend,

Brook

**********

At dinner the next day, the doors to the Great Hall suddenly flew open, revealing several Aurors framed by the massive pillars that decorated the doorway. The lead Auror stopped, took several steps into the Great Hall and pulled out a scroll. He pointed his wand at his throat, said “Sonorus,” and read from the parchment. “The Ministry of Magic hereby demands that Harry James Potter be taken into custody immediately so that he can face trial tomorrow morning for violation of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. Where can I find Mr Potter?”

Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna all jumped up quickly, pulling out their wands and forming a protective arc around Harry. Harry stood up and asked them to relax. Dumbledore came down from the Head Table, talked to the Aurors, and then came over to the students.

“Unfortunately, Harry,” he said sombrely, “the papers are in order. I recommend you go with them peaceably and we will sort this out in the morning.”

Harry thought, This might be it. This is how he separates us. He hugged Ginny, kissed her on the cheek, and then whispered to Ron, “Don’t let Voldemort get her while I am gone.”

He then went with the Aurors. He had to give them his wand and submit himself to being placed in chains that prevented Apparation. He was transported via Portkey to the Ministry and placed in a holding cell overnight.

While lying on the uncomfortable camp bed and staring at the ceiling, he wracked his brain, trying to come up with any time that he might have inadvertently revealed magic to a Muggle. I have been very careful in my letters to Aaron not to reveal anything and I rarely leave Hogwarts. When could I have violated the Statute? He tossed and turned, and the longer lay there without sleeping the more anxiety he felt.

As his worry peaked, he suddenly felt a wave of peace and encouragement come over him. Thank you, Ginny! he thought. He wished he could communicate with her in some way, but, no matter how hard they had tried, they had been unable to reproduce sending thoughts through their Bond. They guessed that Harry was only able to talk with Ginny mentally because of the desperation he felt in the cemetery. He sent back as much love as he could muster to let her know he had received her gift. He then rolled over and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

**********

In the morning, he was led down several flights of stairs to a dark room dimly lit with torches. He was led to the centre of a large room. His eyes travelled around the room, seeing empty benches arranged around the room in ever higher rows. To his right there were several people holding quills and parchment, recognizable as the press. At the centre of the conically shaped room was a wooden chair with chains on its arms. and on the floor in front of it. Harry was led to the chair roughly and the Auror pointed at the chair, making it obvious that he should sit. As soon as he sat, the chains instantly glowed gold and trapped his wrists. A door high above him opened and in walked dozens of older wizards and witches in plum-coloured robes, all emblazoned with a ‘W’ on the front, led by Professor Dumbledore. They sat in chairs arranged in rows opposite the side holding the press. Dumbledore sat down in front of a desk centred in the first row. Through a door on his level walked in a witch who sat at a table to his left.

Professor Dumbledore lifted a gavel and banged it on the desk. “I call to order this judicial session of the Wizengamot this thirtieth day of June 1998 to hear the case of the Ministry versus Mr Harry James Potter on charges of violation of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. For the record, please identify yourselves.” He pointed first to the witch at the table to his left.

The witch, a short, squat woman with a face that Harry thought resembled a toad’s, stood. She wore black robes, and atop her mousy brown hair was perched a small pink hat with a black bow, which struck Harry as something he had seen in old movies based in the fifties. “Delores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, representing the Ministry, sir.” Her voice was high-pitched, sickly sweet, and it grated on Harry for some reason.

Dumbledore pointed to Harry and Harry answered, “Harry James Potter, sir.”

“Madam Secretary, you may present your case,” said Dumbledore.

“Hem, hem. Chief Warlock, sir, I have a motion to place before the Wizengamot.” She pulled out a parchment and used her wand to send it up to Dumbledore. As he opened it and perused it, she started again, “As you can read, the motion is requesting that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore be recused from this hearing because of his relationship with the accused.”

“Madam Secretary, this is a highly unusual request. I would say that I have a relationship with almost all wizards and witches in Britain due to my being Headmaster at Hogwarts.”

“Yes, sir, but I am sure you would agree that your relationship with the accused is closer than most. After all, you did search for him for years until you found him this past summer. And you arranged for special tutoring over the summer and during the school year just so he could attend Hogwarts. And you arranged for his identity to be hidden until this past December when it was only revealed when a member of the press learned of your deception. All of this was revealed in a published interview with the accused this past December, which I can present to you as evidence, if necessary. I would ask that these actions show a bias towards the accused and that, thus, you should be removed from hearing this case.”

Dumbledore looked around to his fellow members of the Wizengamot and saw that they were discussing the points made by Umbridge, and he made a decision. “Instead of putting this to a vote of the whole body, I will recuse myself.” A wicked smile appeared on Umbridge’s face. “But I will still participate in this hearing by acting as an advocate for Mr Potter, as he has never seen a Wizarding trial before, and he will probably benefit from some advice.” He then stood, walked down the stairs to the floor and sat behind Harry.

Meanwhile, a woman took Dumbledore’s seat behind the desk and struck the gavel. “You may proceed, Madam Secretary.”

“Thank you, Madam Bones,” the witch said as she bowed to the new magistrate in charge of the trial. She then strode in front of the table and addressed the assembled gathering. “Esteemed members of the Wizengamot, we plan to show that Mr Potter, with wanton disregard to the laws of our world, did use magic in front of a Muggle, showed off in front of said Muggle in order to seduce her, and did not report his use of magic to the appropriate authorities so that she could be Obliviated. I would like to call my first witness, Madam Davinia Miller.” A door to Harry’s right opened and a middle-aged woman walked in, climbed the steps to the witness stand, and sat down.

Just as Umbridge was rising to start her questioning, a door in the back flew open and a wizard ran in. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but I have an urgent message for Headmaster Dumbledore!”

Madam Bones replied, “This is a very important hearing; you will have to wait until it is over to deliver your message. Please leave.”

“But, but, I have to let him know …”

“Aurors, please have him removed so that we can proceed.” One of the Aurors pointed his wand at the man, silencing him, and then two Aurors grabbed him under the arms and escorted him out of the chamber. “Please continue, Madam Secretary.”

“Thank you, Madam Bones.” Umbridge turned toward the witness, “Madam Miller, can you tell us what you saw on the night of 8 April 1998?”

“Well, I was just closing up my shop. You see, I run an apothecary for both Muggles and magical folk in a small town near Brighton. It was a stormy night and the wind was picking up. I heard a loud crack and looked up and saw a woman scream as the wind uprooted a tree and sent it flying at her. But before it could land on her, she flew about ten metres through the air, landing in the arms of Mr Potter there.”

Umbridge smiled. “Did you know this woman?”

“Yes, I could see that it was Aubrey Phillips. She is one of my Muggle customers.”

“I see,” Umbridge said as she nodded. “What happened next?”

“When she arrived at Mr Potter he hugged her for quite a while. He eventually let go of her and they were talking. I was still too far away to hear anything they said. But then Mr Potter picked up a few stones, obviously trying to impress her, and he magically juggled them without touching them. It worked, as she stood with her mouth gaping open and then she kissed him. She tried to leave and he called after her, probably trying to go home with her, but she turned him down and she went up to her flat.”

“Thank you, Madam Miller,” said Umbridge with an obvious smugness. “You are dismissed.”

Madam Miller began to stand up when Dumbledore held up his hand. “If I may, Madam Bones? Madam Miller could I ask you a few questions before you leave?” She sat back down and nodded. “I just want to clarify a few things. You said that you could not hear anything was said between Miss Phillips and Mr Potter, correct?”

“That is correct.”

“So, you don’t know for a fact that he was trying to, as you put it, ‘impress her’, with his magic. All you saw was this man saving this woman’s life and then doing some magical juggling.”

“Yes, that is all I saw. I don’t know what was said.”

“Did you at any time see Mr Potter use his wand?”

“No, I did not see his wand.”

“And were there any other witnesses to this?”

“There was a girl with Mr Potter, but I don’t know who she was.”

Dumbledore waved his wand and an image of Ginny floated in front of Mrs Miller. “Is this the woman you saw?”

The witness looked at the image for a moment. “Yes, that is her. I recognize her red hair; it is hard to miss.”

Dumbledore turned to the members of the Wizengamot. “Madam Bones, this is an image of Ginevra Weasley, Mr Potter’s fiancée. Thank you, Madam Miller. That will be all.”

Madam Bones then asked, “What other testimony do you have, Madam Secretary?”

Umbridge stood up with that smug look on her face again. “That is all. But certainly that is enough to see that Mr Potter used magic in front of a Muggle for his own sexual conquest and didn’t take steps to make sure she would not remember the events. I suggest for this blatant misuse that he have his wand snapped and he be sent to Azkaban.”

Dumbledore stood and said, “Certainly, Mr Potter is entitled to a defence, is he not, Madam Bones?”

“Yes, you may present your case now, Headmaster.”

“First, I would ask why the Muggle in question, Miss Phillips, I believe her name is, is not testifying herself as to what happened that day? Or has she already been Obliviated?”

Umbridge stood up again and said, “We have been unable to find her; she seems to have disappeared. We fear the worst as a man matching the description of escaped prisoner Sirius Black has been spotted in that village recently; we believe that he may have killed her for some reason.”

Dumbledore nodded. “I see. Then, can I call Ginevra Weasley, who was a witness to the events as well?”

Umbridge quickly said, “I object. As Mr Potter’s fiancée, she obviously cannot be trusted to give unbiased testimony.”

The Wizengamot members mumbled to themselves for a moment and then Madam Bones upheld Umbridge’s objection. Dumbledore then said, “I guess, then, my only choice is to have Mr Potter to testify on his own behalf.” He walked over to Harry and asked, “Mr Potter could you explain what happened that evening?”

Harry said, “Ginny, Miss Weasley, and I had just finished buying some groceries and were walking back to the cottage we were staying at, when we heard a crack and a scream, just like Madam Miller said. I saw Miss Phillips about to be crushed under the falling tree and acted instinctively. I reached out my hands and thought Accio woman and she rushed towards me. She did put her head on my chest because she was crying from the fright and I did comfort her, but I did not try to seduce her. When she settled down, she asked how I did what I did. I knew I couldn’t reveal to her that I was a wizard, so I tried to think of an explanation that she would believe. Then I thought of ESP. It stands for extrasensory perception. Basically, ESP entails a number of abilities involving the brain, like reading another’s thoughts, making prophecies, and moving objects with your mind, for instance. As I was raised with Muggles, I knew that she would be more likely to believe in ESP than magic. As a matter of fact, when Professor Dumbledore first revealed the Wizarding world to me, I thought that he was suggesting I had ESP and that was the reason I could do the things that I now know is accidental magic. While most Muggles don’t believe it exists, some do, so I told Miss Phillips that I had a type of ESP called telekinesis. To prove it to her, I did magically juggle the stones, but to show her that I really could do it, not to ‘impress her’ or ‘seduce her’ as I have been accused. After all, I was right next to my fiancée. I asked her to keep it a secret and she promised to do so. As she left, I asked her if we could help her get home, but she said she could make it herself. That’s what really happened. I convinced her that I had abilities that were not magic, so I didn’t report it to the authorities.”

Umbridge stood up again. “Mr Potter, are you trying to make us believe that you, a wizard who has been trained for less than a year can do nonverbal and wandless magic? Obviously, you are lying about that so none of your testimony can be believed.”

A mischievous grin grew on Harry’s face and he looked at Dumbledore, asking for permission to show his abilities. Dumbledore gave his head a slight nod that no one else noticed. Harry waved his hand inside the chains and Umbridge’s pink hat with the bow came off her head and flew into his grasp. The look on her face was priceless.

Dumbledore said, “He seems to be not lying about his magic, Madam Secretary. Perhaps he is not lying about the rest either. Without a witness that can corroborate that he did indeed try to seduce this Muggle by showing off his magic, I don’t see how he can be convicted of these charges. The Statute does allow for the use of magic in cases of emergency, such as a life-threatening situation. I would move that all charges be dropped and Mr Potter be released immediately.”

The members of the Wizengamot discussed among themselves for a few minutes and then Madam Bones rapped the gavel on the desk. “Mr Potter, all charges have been dropped and you are free to go.”

The chains binding Harry to his chair suddenly opened, allowing him to rise, and he walked over to Dumbledore, shaking his hand. “Thank you for your help, sir. Let’s get back to Hogwarts; we have a Leaving Feast to attend this evening,” he said with a smile. As he said this, Harry noticed a very perturbed Umbridge gathering her parchments and stomping out of the room.

Madam Bones approached them before they could leave the room. “Mr Potter, I apologize for bringing you here for this trial. It seems that Minister Fudge’s toady was a bit overzealous in trying you.” Her disdain was obvious in her tone. Harry suppressed the urge to laugh at the double meaning of the insult against Umbridge. “Had she brought this case to me, I probably would have avoided a trial altogether.”

At Harry’s noticeable confusion, Dumbledore explained. “Madam Bones is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She usually reviews the evidence in criminal cases and decides whether to proceed with a trial or not.”

“However, in your case, Umbridge bypassed me and went directly to Fudge,” said Madam Bones. “I don’t know why, but I suspect that either she or the Minister has something against you.”

Dumbledore nodded in agreement. “I would not be surprised if the Minister is upset about your role in Voldemort’s return. The news was released without his knowledge and without him being able to put his spin on it before it appeared in The Prophet. His office has also received much criticism about their management of the Death Eaters in the last few months. I am sure he feels powerless against them and blames you for all of it.”

“He wouldn’t have to feel so powerless if he wasn’t handcuffing my department at every turn,” said Madam Bones with frustration in her voice. “I have requested more funding, more training for my Aurors, approval to question people with past ties to Death Eaters, approval to use Veritaserum during questioning, and he has blocked my every suggestion.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “But that is a fight for another day.” She held out Harry’s wand, saying, “Here is your wand that was confiscated yesterday, Mr Potter. I hope the rest of your day is more pleasant.” After giving Harry his wand, she turned and quickly left.

Harry pocketed his wand and he and Professor Dumbledore followed Madam Bones out of the courtroom. As soon as they opened the door, the wizard who tried to deliver the message earlier grabbed Dumbledore’s arm and said, “Headmaster, Hogwarts is under attack! You must get back there immediately!”

A/N: When I was looking for a title for this chapter, I learned that “toad in the hole” is a traditional British dish consisting of sausages cooked in Yorkshire pudding batter (Source: Wikipedia). I thought the title fit, combining Umbridge’s appearance and the layout of the Ministry courtroom with rows and rows of benches high above the floor where the defendant was seated.

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Chapter 37: The Vision Fulfilled

Author's Notes: I know I am repeating myself, but Arnel's beta work yet again made this chapter so much better than my original draft. I don't think I can thank her enough.


The Vision Fulfilled

The morning after Harry had been taken away from Hogwarts by the Aurors, Ginny woke up and stretched before peeking out of the curtains surrounding her four-poster. She smiled when she saw that the sun had been up for a while. She had been up late last night and had decided to have a lie-in since there would be no classes today. Sinking back onto her pillows, she reflected how good it felt to have helped Harry the night before, even though they were hundreds of miles apart.

She had been sitting in the common room with Ron, Hermione, and Neville, worried about Harry and the pending trial the next day. They had been trying to think of how Harry might have inadvertently broken the Statue of Secrecy, but they came to the conclusion that he must have been unjustly accused.

As the evening proceeded, Ginny found herself getting more and more agitated. Sometime after midnight, Ron complained, “Oi, Ginny, stop pacing. You’re making us all more nervous.”

Ginny started to snap back at him when she realized that he had a point. “Sorry,” she said dejectedly. “I just can’t help it. I’m just so anxious for Harry. I wish there was something I could do. Why don’t you go to bed? I don’t think there is any way I am going to sleep tonight, but that’s no reason for you to stay up.”

The other three arose and made their way toward their respective dorms. Just before she went up the stairs, Hermione said to Ginny, “Are you sure you’re the one who is anxious, Ginny? Maybe there is something you can do,” she said with a wink.

Ginny considered what Hermione said for a moment before grasping what she meant. I must be feeling Harry’s nervousness! He’s just so far away that I didn’t detect that it was his and not mine! With a new determination, she went up to her bed, pulled the curtains, and concentrated on her Bond with Harry, trying to ignore the waves of unease that she could feel coming through now that she was aware of the issue. She then used all her willpower to send him a feeling of peace and encouragement. A few moments later she felt the anxiety fade, replaced with a feeling of contentment. Another few moments later, she felt this powerful wave of love and warmth envelope her which she could tell came from Harry as a thank you. She rolled over, pulled up her covers, and fell asleep.

As she remembered the previous night, she extended her senses through the Bond, and determined that her actions were still affecting him, as Harry seemed calm as he awaited his trial. With that check completed, she arose from bed and prepared for the day.

When she arrived down in the crowded common room, she eventually found Ron and Hermione snuggling together on a love seat. On the end table next to them was a plate and a scone, blueberry it appeared from a distance. As she approached them, Ron looked up and said, “Morning, Ginny.” He tilted his head toward the scone and added, “I brought you something from breakfast. I had a feeling you might be lying in today.”

She went over to her brother and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Ron. That was very sweet.” She then said to Hermione with a cheeky grin, “And thanks to you, too, Hermione. A year ago, Ron would never have thought to bring me some breakfast.”

Ron began to protest when an announcement was heard throughout the castle. “All students are to proceed to their common rooms immediately,” said Professor McGonagall’s amplified voice. “The castle is under attack! Again, all students are to go to their common rooms and await further instructions. Prefects, please make sure everyone is accounted for.”

Hermione and Ron jumped up quickly and started for the portrait hole.

“Where are you two going?” asked Ginny.

“As part of the emergency procedures, the Head Boy and Girl are to report to the Headmaster’s office in situations like this,” explained Hermione.

“I’m coming with you,” said Ginny.

“I don’t know, Ginny,” said Hermione, uncertainty in her voice.

“Let me go to my room and get the Marauder’s Map. We can help Professor McGonagall determine where the attack is coming from.”

Ron, noticing his girlfriend’s internal conflict, said, “Hermione, she has a good idea, and there isn’t a student better at duelling here at the school, at least with Harry at the Ministry.”

Hermione acquiesced and Ginny ran up the stairs and obtained the map. When she returned, she activated it. “Look, the Death Eaters seem to be just appearing out of thin air here on the seventh floor,” said Ginny, pointing at the gathering of dots with names that didn’t match current students.

“They must be coming in through the Room of Requirement somehow,” concluded Ron.

“Now they are heading to the Headmaster’s office!” noticed Hermione.

“Professor McGonagall is trapped with only the gargoyle to protect her. Hermione, you and I will never get to Professor McGonagall by ourselves,” said Ron. He thought for a moment before an idea came to him. “If we take a few DA members with us, we can hide here and here,” indicating a suit of armour and a statue on either side of the corridor, “and be able to surprise them. There is enough room for two of us in each spot. From there, we should have enough cover to protect us and not have to risk much.”

Ron looked out at the faces in the common room. “Neville, I want you to come with Hermione, Ginny and me. We’re going ambush some Death Eaters and try to free Professor McGonagall. Dean, Seamus, Lavender, and Colin, I want you four to stand guard here around the portrait hole. Move some furniture to give you protection.” He viewed the rest of the Gryffindors that had gathered. “Everyone else, I want you in your dorm rooms. I want at least one fifth or sixth year student in each room. After everyone is inside, move a wardrobe in front of the door to prevent anyone from getting in.” He paused and then asked, “Any questions?” Seeing none, he added, “Good. Everyone go to your positions.”

Ron turned to Hermione. “Can you send a message on the DA coins to the members of the other houses to do the same thing in their common rooms? We’ve practiced this and they should know the drill. While you’re doing that, I’ll show Neville the plan.”

A few moments later, the four Gryffindors were stealthily heading towards the Headmaster’s office. Using the Map to locate the Death Eaters, they found a safe pathway. As they neared their adversaries, they cast Disillusionment Charms on each other. They rounded the corner and spied their targets. There were six Death Eaters congregated around the gargoyle with two of them firing spells at the stone statue, but nothing seemed to affect it, not even Reducto.

Ron and Hermione took cover behind the suit of armour on the right while Ginny and Neville hid behind the statue. Ron tapped his foot as a signal to start and the quartet started casting spells at the Death Eaters. Three were dropped immediately by Stunning Spells, but the remaining three turned and returned fire.

Both pairs used strategies they had worked on in the DA to duel their opponents. Ron and Hermione timed their spells so that Hermione would cast first, causing their adversary to dodge one direction to avoid the spell, but then Ron would cast a split second after Hermione, aiming where he guessed their opponent would be after dodging. Ginny, would concentrate on her relationship with Harry and then cast as strong a spell as possible, collapsing the shield of the Death Eater. Neville would follow up with another spell before the rival could erect another shield. The two strategies worked well and the three remaining Death Eaters were soon dispatched. The fact that they were all out in the open while the students were behind cover helped as well.

All six Death Eaters were Stunned and tied up in ropes quickly. “Hermione, you and Neville go up to check on Professor McGonagall,” said Ron. “Ginny and I will use the Map to see how the rest of the battle is going.” Hermione said the current password to the Headmaster’s office and the gargoyle stepped aside, allowing her and Neville to enter.

Ginny pulled out the Map, activated it, and the siblings studied it for a moment. “It looks like they are trying to get into Gryffindor tower,” said Ron. “Let’s ambush them. I’ll go around this corridor and approach them from the east while you go this way and come at them from the west. We’ll catch them in some crossfire that way.”

“I don’t see any other Death Eaters on the Map, so that idea looks good,” agreed Ginny. She said, “Mischief managed,” and put the map in her robes. She stood up on tiptoes and kissed Ron on the cheek. “Good hunting, bro,” she said with a grin, before running off to the agreed upon spot.

As she approached the hallway with the portrait, she peeked around the corner. They are still there, but they can’t seem to get past the portrait. She looked again past the group. Ron’s not here yet, but he did have the longer pathway. She waited, itchy to engage the Death Eaters in battle, but knowing that Ron’s plan gave them a better chance of victory. She took a deep breath, trying to relax. I wonder how Harry’s doing? was her last thought before everything went black.

**********

As soon as they heard what was occurring at Hogwarts, Dumbledore asked, “Harry, use your Bond and assess how Miss Weasley is feeling.”

Harry did as asked and responded, “It seems like she is a little nervous, but her primary feeling is, I guess, amusement.” He smiled and added, “Whatever is happening there, she’s having fun!”

“That is encouraging,” the Headmaster replied with a twinkle in his eye. “Let’s head up to the Atrium and use the Floo to travel to school and see how we can help.” When they arrived at the fireplaces, they found that they couldn’t make the connection to the school. “They must have disabled the Floo,” said Dumbledore.

“I’ll just Apparate directly to Ginny, then,” said Harry. He began to concentrate on Ginny’s location, but Dumbledore put his hand on Harry’s arm.

“While I understand your enthusiasm to go directly to Miss Weasley, I think it would be best if we stay together, and I can’t Apparate with you into Hogwarts.” Ginny and Harry had done some experimenting earlier in the spring at the Headmaster’s recommendation and had discovered that their abilities did not allow Side-Along Apparation inside Hogwarts.

Dumbledore paused, letting Harry consider his comment. “Instead, let’s Apparate to Hogsmeade and then approach the castle from there. That will allow us more opportunity to scout the extent of the attack.” Harry nodded in agreement. They jogged quickly to the Ministry Apparation point. “The alley behind The Three Broomsticks, then?” suggested Dumbledore. Harry nodded again and they disappeared from the Ministry.

Seconds later, they were in the shadow of the pub. As soon as they arrived, they noticed a skull with a snake in the sky above the castle and saw that the village was under siege. They slipped through back alleys and around corners to evade detection, but as they reached the outskirts of the main part of town, they saw that there were multiple skirmishes on the path between the village and the school between Death Eaters and villagers. “It will take us too long to get through all those fights; we need to get to Hogwarts more quickly,” whispered Dumbledore.

“Headmaster, are you aware of the tunnel from Honeydukes that opens behind the statue of the one-eyed crone in the Defence hallway? It could get us into the castle without having to battle our way in.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Excellent idea, Harry! I haven’t used that passage for years, but I know that it is used fairly frequently by students,” he said with a wink. The pair then made their way to Honeydukes, which was closed because of the attack. Dumbledore waved his wand, unlocking the door. They then hurried to the back of the shop, went down to the cellar, and entered the tunnel. Harry led the way, the lit tip of his wand lighting their path.

At the other end, Harry said, “Dissendium” and the statue pivoted, allowing him into the hallway. Before his eyes could adjust to the brighter light, he heard someone yell, “Potter! Get him! Confringo! ” Harry dove out of the way as the spell hit the tunnel opening and he started firing spells in the direction of the voices, bringing down one of the Death Eaters immediately.

As the dust cleared, he spied three more Death Eaters. He quickly cast a Shield Charm as he saw a spell flying toward him. The shield blocked the spell, but collapsed immediately. Concentrate, Potter! he told himself. Think about Ginny when you are casting. He heard the Death Eater on his left yell, “Sectumsempra! ” Not having enough time to cast another shield, he dropped to the ground, letting it pass over his head. Unfortunately for the Death Eater on his right, the spell hit him in the chest, opening a large gash. The Death Eater fell to the ground, blood pouring from his wound and from his mouth as he gasped for air.

Only two left, thought Harry as he turned his attention to the remaining opponents. One of them said, “Together! Stun him!”

Harry had enough warning to yell, “Protego! ” while thinking about Ginny’s beaming face when she saw him come in the common room after classes. The shield, while not as strong as one cast if the couple was touching, was much stronger than his previous attempt. Both of the red beams were reflected back towards its caster. The Death Eater on the left was surprised and could not react quickly enough before the spell rendered him unconscious.

Harry turned to face the one remaining foe. The Death Eater reached up and threw his mask across the corridor. Harry gasped as he recognized the wizard. His adversary smiled malevolently and laughed. “I see you know who I am. Yes, I was the one who killed your parents, and, now, I will kill you. You’ve been the cause of much pain the last few months, so I am going to enjoy this!” Avery assumed a duelling pose before slashing with his wand.

A yellow light raced at Harry and he dove to his left, quickly rolling over and landing on his feet. “Not bad,” said Avery. “My Lord complained about your dodging his spells.” Avery flicked his wand twice swiftly, sending two spells almost simultaneously. Unable to dodge both of them, Harry cast another shield while thinking of Ginny’s face. The first spell was absorbed by the shield, but the second caused it to fail. Harry was preparing to cast another shield when he saw that Avery had cast a third spell. He was unable to either cast a spell or dodge before it sliced through his right shoulder, causing him to drop his wand.

Avery laughed and said, “Now, I’ve got you! You can’t even hold your wand!” Avery lifted his arm and yelled, “Expulso!

Harry was able to dodge the blue spell, but when it hit the wall behind him, the explosion threw him forward. He rolled again, and came up in a crouch, his right arm lying against his side, useless. He reached out his left hand and yelled, “Accio wand!” His wand rocketed to his hand and he felt it slap against his palm. He quickly cast two Stunners, one of which crumpled Avery’s shield, the second rendered the shocked Death Eater unconscious.

Harry fell down on one knee, panting with the exertion from the duel. Good thing that I worked so hard on casting with my left hand with Ginny! he thought with a grin. After a moment of rest, he stood and bound the three Death Eaters who were still alive. He turned his head, surveying the damage done in the skirmish, and saw the statue of Gunhilda had been obliterated; all that was left was a pile of rubble.

”Professor!” he yelled as he realized that the Headmaster must be under the wreckage. Oh, no! I totally forgot about him! he thought. He ran back to the pile of rocks and used his wand to start removing the debris. After several minutes, he saw the tip of Dumbledore’s hat and then dug frantically with his hands, although the inability to use his right arm slowed him down significantly. He eventually was able to unearth the old man’s face and was relieved when he saw his eyes blink. “Professor, hold on! We’ll get some help for you, just hold on!” Harry quickly sent Patronus messages to Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Madam Pomfrey.

Harry saw Dumbledore’s lips moving as if he was trying to say something, so he leaned over so he could hear better. “Harry, the next – great adventure is – beckoning – me.” He was struggling to speak, gasping at each pause.

“Don’t talk, Professor. Just rest until help arrives.”

“No, I – must tell you – something. The answer – is – Riddle. Study – him.” His head drooped to the side and his eyes just stared into space. Harry checked for breathing and then a pulse and found none, so he removed some more debris from the Headmaster’s chest and started the rescue breathing and chest compressions of CPR, despite the searing pain in his right shoulder with each compression. In rhythm with the compressions, he said, “Please, Professor, hang on. You have to make it. We need you. I need you.” Sweat and tears mixed on his face as he worked to keep his mentor alive.

Harry wasn’t sure how long he continued to perform CPR, but as he was starting to tire and was giving a rescue breath, he heard Ron’s voice say, “Bloody hell, Harry, what are you doing?”

As Harry looked up, he saw Hermione holding Ron’s arm, restraining him. “It’s okay, Ron; Harry’s doing something called CPR that Muggles use to keep blood circulating after the heart stops beating.” She approached Dumbledore and told Harry, “Stop, Harry. Let’s check to see if there is any pulse.” She put her fingers over his neck for a few moments and eventually sighed miserably, “Nothing. I’m sorry, but he’s gone.” She had tears in her eyes as she looked up at him.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry grabbed each other in a group hug for a few moments before Madam Pomfrey arrived, who concurred with Hermione’s assessment. She then looked at Harry, and said, “Mr Potter, what happened to your arm?”

Harry looked down at his right arm and found that his robes were soaked with blood. “My shoulder was hit with a Slashing Curse. It’s been pretty useless since.”

Madam Pomfrey muttered, “Tsk,” as she waved her wand over his shoulder. She ripped open his robe, exposing the gash. She then said, “Vulnera Sanentur,” three times and the wound knitted together. She then said, “Tergeo,” to clean the blood off his clothes. While she worked, Harry looked around and saw that Ginny had not arrived with the rest of his friends.

“Where’s Ginny?” he asked anxiously. “I sent her a Patronus also, but she hasn’t responded.”

“I haven’t seen her for probably thirty minutes,” said Ron. “We were supposed to meet up at the Fat Lady’s portrait to take down some more Death Eaters, but she never arrived.” Seeing Harry’s face, he said, “Don’t worry, Harry, she can take care of herself,” attempting to reassure his best mate.

“I know she can, but if she hasn’t responded yet, she may be in trouble.” He concentrated on finding her through the Soul Bond and located her in the Forbidden Forest. He had just started running in the direction of the Entrance Hall when a loud, booming voice reverberated throughout the castle and he stopped.

“Potter, I know you are here. I have your woman and the only way for you to save her is to come alone and face me. I know you know where we are. You have fifteen minutes.”

Harry thought to himself, Well, we knew this was going to happen; I guess it’s time. He took a deep breath and started to walk toward the front doors.

Hermione had caught up to him by that time and grabbed his arm. “Harry, you can’t go; we have to think of something else!”

“She’s right, mate. You can’t just walk into that trap,” added Ron.

Harry gaped at Ron for a moment before asking, “Ron, what would you do if it was Hermione down in the forest, and you knew the only chance to save her would likely result in your death? Would you hesitate to make that sacrifice?” Ron looked down, and shook his head. “Or you, Hermione, if it was Ron?” She also shook her head. “How then can you ask me to not make that same choice?”

They looked at each other for a moment before Hermione pulled him into a hug, sobbing. Ron said, “At least let us go with you, maybe under your cloak.”

“No, you heard what he said; I have to do this alone.” He then hugged Ron and, after freeing himself from his best friend, he said, “Ginny’s going to need your help, you two, so please do what you can for her. And trust her feelings; she’s the key to defeating Voldemort once I’m gone. I love both of you more than you can know.” He gave them each another quick hug and took a moment took a moment to prepare himself to meet the fate Hermione had seen before Apparating about a quarter mile from his Soul Mate.

**********

Ginny awoke slowly and groaned at the pain in her head. She tried to bring her arms up, but found she was tied to a tree. She opened her eyes, but closed them quickly as the bright sunlight increased her headache. She opened her eyes more cautiously, squinting to avoid the pain. She looked around and realized she was in a clearing in a forest. It’s happening! Hermione’s vision! She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. She tried to think of escape options, but she felt like her thoughts were foggy, and thinking increased her headache. I must have a concussion. She studied her surroundings and saw that her wand was resting on a nearby stump. Concentrating on her magic, she thought, Accio wand, but it felt like her head was splitting in two. Guess wandless magic is out of the question.

She reached out through her Bond, and sensed that Harry was here at Hogwarts. She could tell that he seemed to be resting after exerting himself, and then she felt a spike of extreme fear. Maybe I can help, she thought and attempted to Apparate to him, but the pain in her head was too great. I probably shouldn’t Apparate either. Could end up Splinched.

She tried to think of anything she could do to escape from this scenario, but nothing came to her. I have to do something! I can’t let Harry die! Panic started to set in and tears threatened to fall. No, Ginny! You are not going to cry! Harry needs you to stay alert and focused!

She reached out again, and she felt a wave of sadness hit her. What could have caused Harry to be so sad? I hope everyone is okay.

She heard a twig snap to her left and she turned her head quickly, regretting the action almost instantly. She blinked back the pain and saw the woman who had been torturing Neville in Hogsmeade walking toward her. She now recognized her as Bellatrix Lestrange from various photographs of her in The Daily Prophet that had been printed since that attack.

“I see Potter’s little whore is awake,” she said, a sneer on her face. “How’s your head? You really shouldn’t let enemies hit you from behind,” she added with a short cackle. Bellatrix reached out and grabbed Ginny’s face roughly, squeezing her cheeks. Ginny tried to avoid her hand, but just hit her head on the trunk of the tree, causing even more pain. Bellatrix laughed some more and turned Ginny’s face back and forth. “You really are a pretty one; I can see why Potter would want to bed you. Using you as bait to bring Potter to my Dark Lord was an inspired idea.” She let go of Ginny’s face and started to walk away.

“And where is Tom? Too afraid to show his face?” Ginny challenged defiantly.

Bellatrix spun quickly, her face full of rage, and slapped Ginny so hard that her head slammed back into the tree again. “How dare you speak of my Lord so insolently?! You will respect him properly or I will make you respect him!” the crazed witch hissed as she held her wand millimetres from Ginny’s nose. Ginny could taste blood in her mouth from the force of the blow.

“Now, now, my dear Bellatrix,” said Voldemort as he emerged from the trees to Ginny’s left. Ginny gasped as she saw Riddle, realizing that yet another part of Hermione’s vision seemed to be coming to fruition. “There is no need to threaten our guest here. After all, the time for her to fulfil her purpose here has arrived.”

Voldemort pointed his wand at his throat, and said, “Sonorus.” He then dropped his wand, and his amplified voice filled the forest. “Potter, I know you are here. I have your woman and the only way for you to save her is to come alone and face me. You know where we are. You have fifteen minutes.” He pointed his wand at his throat again and said, “Quietus,” cancelling the amplification.

The volume of Voldemort’s challenge caused Ginny to wince in pain and she closed her eyes. Please, Harry, don’t come! It’s not worth it! There must be some other way out of this, she cried out desperately in her mind, hoping against hope that he could hear her. But that hope was crushed a few moments later when she heard footsteps rustling through the leaves to her right. She looked up and saw Harry approaching, his shoulders sagging as if they bore the weight of the world.

His head came up as he entered the clearing and their eyes locked. “No! Harry, save yourself! Run!” she yelled at him, tears again threatening to fall. She could see the sadness in his eyes, and then heard his voice in her head say, I wish I didn’t have to put this you through this, Gin.

Harry started toward her, but before he could take more than a step, Bellatrix yelled, “Crucio! ” pointing her wand at Ginny. Ginny felt like tiny knives were cutting her throughout her body. She struggled against her bindings and screamed in agony. After a few seconds, Bellatrix lifted the curse and warned, “No closer, Potter, or the next time I won’t stop. My Lord has told me to keep my eye on her to keep you from her.” When Ginny looked up, she saw that Harry was on his knees, trying to shake off the effects of the pain he felt through their Bond.

Harry stood up and held his head high as he stared at Riddle. Voldemort stared back for a second, but then his head jerked back. “I see your Occlumency barriers are indeed strong, Potter.” He grinned evilly and said, “I’ve always thought that Soul Bonds are just myths and ‘true love’ is just an excuse for weakness. Care to prove to me that your Soul Bond isn’t just a charade? Do you truly love her?”

“Of course, I do.” Ginny’s heart leapt and she was filled with love for this wonderful man.

“Willing to give up everything for her?” asked Voldemort. “To die for her?”

“Yes, anything as long as you let her go.”

“I will, but only after I’m done with you.”

“How can I trust you to not do anything to her?”

With a malevolent smile on his face, Voldemort replied, “You can’t, other than my word that I will let her go. But once you are dead, she is of no concern to me, so why wouldn’t I let her go?”

“Don’t listen to him, Harry! He lies more than he tells the truth,” pleaded Ginny.

Voldemort chuckled evilly. “That may well be, but you don’t have any choice but to trust me, Potter, or she’s dead.” Voldemort nodded in Ginny’s direction and Bellatrix put her wand to Ginny’s throat.

Harry’s shoulders sagged in resignation. “Okay. What do you want with me?”

“First, throw your wand toward me.” Harry complied and Voldemort continued, “Now, put your hands in your pockets so you can’t do any wandless magic.” Ginny saw Harry take another deep breath before he complied. “Now, come closer and kneel before me, as you should, showing that I am your superior in every way.”

As Harry began walking, Voldemort turned his head toward her and Ginny felt a sudden sharp pain in her head. She could feel Tom rifling through her memories and she closed her eyes and concentrated on building a stone wall to repel him. She didn’t realize she was screaming until the pain stopped and she heard her scream cease. Her head dropped and she panted as she recovered from the violation of her mind. She was barely cognizant that Riddle was speaking to Harry again. “Just had to take advantage of my link with Ginevra and make sure you didn’t have some deception planned.”

Ginny looked up again and her eyes met Harry’s again. Ginny, I have a plan. Trust me and trust your feelings. I love you. She could no longer hold back the tears when he turned back to Voldemort and knelt. Harry gazed up at Voldemort, looking him straight in the eye and said, “This is not the end, Tom. Even if I am gone, someone will figure out a way to defeat you.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, Potter. I know the prophecy, you know, and you are the only one who can defeat me. ‘Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. ’ I guess we now know which way it ends.” He lifted his wand and shouted, “Avada Kedavra!

To Ginny, time slowed down as she watched the eerie green light travel from Voldemort’s wand through the space between them. Just before it struck Harry in the chest, it looked like he flinched at the last moment and he fell away from it fractions of a second before it struck its target. She screamed again, “NO!” and Harry crumpled to the ground.

Voldemort raised his wand to the sky and triumphantly yelled, “Morsmordre! ” and the familiar skull and snake image of the Dark Mark appeared in the clouds. Bellatrix’s head flew back and she cackled loudly in celebration. Voldemort then looked at Ginny and laughed maniacally, “I have won; now nothing can stop me!” He walked over to Ginny, who was sobbing, and reached a spidery hand towards her cheek. Ginny cringed as he touched her. “Now, now, my Ginevra, it is time for you to fulfil your destiny. Come with me as it always should have been.”

“I’ll never be yours, Tom!” as she spit in his face.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Ginevra. You’ve been mine since the day you first wrote in my diary. And I can be patient. You will come to me one day. Bellatrix, perhaps you can do some persuading of our young woman here; I have other matters to deal with.” He pulled a small vial out of a pocket of his robes, tapped it with his wand and disappeared.

Bellatrix turned back to Ginny and surprised her by saying, “Finite Incantatem,” releasing her from her bonds. Ginny collapsed to the ground, looking over at Harry’s lifeless body. She started to crawl toward him, but her body was thrown backwards and she was held to the ground on her back, her arms pinned to the forest floor by invisible ropes. Then her body was racked with pain again as the witch held the Cruciatus on her. After what seemed like minutes, she was released. “That will teach you to refuse the Dark Lord’s offer. Are you ready to go to him, or do I need to use some other tactics?” She pulled a knife out her robes and knelt down, holding the edge of the blade against Ginny’s cheek. “I would hate to ruin that beautiful face of yours, but I think my Lord would understand.”

Suddenly, Bellatrix was hit by a spell and was thrown off Ginny, landing a few feet away from her. “NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!” Ginny’s head turned toward the voice to see her mother leading a group of Order members toward her. Bellatrix crouched, and seeing that she was outnumbered, tapped a broach on her shoulder with her wand and the Portkey took her away. As soon as she was gone, the invisible ropes holding Ginny in place dissolved, allowing her to get up and she ran over to Harry’s body. She picked up his head and placed it in her lap, and looked into his face with its lifeless eyes. “No, it can’t be! It can’t be!” she wailed through her tears. She grabbed his body and held it, rocking back and forth as the sobs racked through her. She was unsure how long she sat there crying and rocking when she felt a soft touch on her shoulder.

“Ginny, he’s gone,” she heard Hermione say gently.

“No, I can still feel him; he can’t be dead!”

“I’m sorry, Ginny, but no one can survive the Killing Curse.”

“He already did once! I know he’s not dead!” she almost screamed back at her best friend.

Ron put his arms around her and she finally let go of Harry’s body. All she could do was hold on to her brother with everything she had as she continued to weep.

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Chapter 38: Reminiscing

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay on posting this. I had to go through four different drafts before Arnel and I felt it was ready for posting.
This chapter (and the next) are a departure from the rest of the story. If you don't like it, please bear with it because the story will pick up again shortly.


Reminiscing

Ginny was awakened by the sound of a gentle rain hitting her window. The Weasleys had all returned to the Burrow after Harry’s and Dumbledore’s funerals, but the usual comfort she felt in her own bed in her home was not present and she did not sleep well her first night home.

She arose from her bed and sat on the window sill, staring out at the gloomy sky. The weather matches my mood today, unlike yesterday, she thought sadly. At the funerals, which had both been held at Hogwarts two days after their deaths, the sky was a brilliant blue without a cloud in sight, and the birds could be heard chirping brightly in the background. It just seemed so wrong that such a sad service could happen on such a beautiful day. As she sat there, staring into the distance, two fat tears slid down her face and dropped into her lap. Not bothering to wipe them away, she allowed her thoughts to drift to Harry, wondering what she was going to do, how she was going to move on, how she was going to even survive without him. She knew she should talk to someone, share her feelings so that they could help her through her grief. That’s what everyone was encouraging her to do, but whom? Hermione or Ron seemed obvious, but they seemed to be in as much of a fog as she. Her other brothers would be willing to listen, but none of them really knew Harry well, and she could tell that, while they wanted to help, they just didn’t know how. She could talk to her mum, but she wasn’t herself either. When her mum wasn’t up in her room, presumably crying, she constantly was rubbing the charm bracelet Harry had given her. I don’t think she could be more depressed if one of her own sons had been killed, thought Ginny.

Ginny’s tears fell faster, as they had so often over the last few days, as she turned and looked around her room. Through her blurred vision, she spied a small book on her desk: her latest diary. Bill had started giving her diaries each year for her birthday after the events of her first year, encouraging her to write down her feelings in a safe location and helping her get over her fear of Tom’s diary. Over the years she would go in spurts, sometimes writing daily, and at other times not writing for weeks, or even months. Maybe writing my feelings will help as much as talking to someone, she mused.

She stood, picked up the diary, and sat back down on her bed. She tapped the diary with her wand, cancelling the locking charm on it that was keyed to her wand, and opened it, reminiscing as she read.

August 11, 1997

Dear Diary,

Today I turn sixteen, almost an adult. Just one more year to go! I just received my O.W.L. scores. I earned ten O.W.L.s, with O’s on eight of them, even in Potions! Maybe that’ll teach that git Snape that I do know what I am doing! I received an E in Divination and an A in History of Magic. I had a hard time remembering which goblin revolution was which. Not quite as good as Hermione, but pretty good, if I do say so myself. Mum was almost apoplectic (Hermione’s vocabulary must be rubbing off on me) when she saw them, hoping that these scores will lead me to a good job at the Ministry. I haven’t told her that what I really want to do is play professional Quidditch, so it doesn’t really matter what my scores are, but I think I’ll keep that little secret between us.

The twins have been giving me a hard time, comparing me to Percy and saying they are very disappointed in me. They even threatened to take back the Marauder’s Map, but I’ve hidden it in my room in a place that even they wouldn’t be able to find. And, Fred and George, if you are reading this, I am not going to be foolish enough to write down where it is, because I know you have read my diary in the past. I hope you enjoy the charm I put on it this year for any unauthorized readers. Maybe you’ll learn not to mess with my stuff!

Ginny chuckled at the memory of how the twins had walked funny for several days last August due to the results of that charm on their boxers that they had triggered by attempting to read her diary.

I received a lot of the usual gifts this year. This diary, of course, from Bill, some dragon hide gloves for Quidditch from Charlie, a quill from Percy, a box of Wheezes from the twins, Honeydukes chocolates from Ron, and a book on Advanced Runes from Hermione.

But my favourite gift is a painting from Dean of ‘our’ spot down by the lake. He charmed it so that it shows a twenty-four hour period in one hour, so you can watch the sun, the moon, and some wispy clouds travel through the sky. He says Muggles call it ‘time-lapse.’ The way he made the trees gently move in the breeze and the waves sparkle in the moonlight is amazing. He truly is talented. It’s been a long summer, not being able to see him as he is travelling around Europe, touring museums and art schools that he is thinking of attending after he finishes Hogwarts this year. But school is starting in just a few weeks and we’ll be able to visit ‘our’ spot again. I’ll have to make sure to thank him properly when I get a chance.

The only other news is that I’ve been having weird dreams again. I know, when have you heard that before? Well, the last few weeks I’ve been having this dream where I am walking in the fog and then I see James Potter. I grab his hand and ask him if he is ready to end something. The dream ends when we approach this dark castle.

Why in Merlin’s name would I be dreaming of James Potter? Isn’t it bad enough that I’ve been dreaming about his son for as long as I remember? It would be so nice if I could just sleep instead of having these strange dreams. I’d love to not have those Chamber nightmares, too. Anything you can do about that, Diary?

Tomorrow we are going to Diagon Alley for our annual Hogwarts shopping. I hope I can convince Mum to let me get some new robes. Ron’s hand-me-downs are getting a little worn, even if I can’t say that I need new ones since I haven’t grown any since last year, at least not up. Or maybe I can convince the twins to give me a little advance; they’ve asked me to help out in the shop for the next few weeks while all the Hogwarts shoppers are in the Alley.

Ginny

Ginny was surprised as she read the first entry. I can’t believe I sounded so young, so naïve! she thought. All concerned about school and clothes and shopping and boys. No wonder my brothers treated me like I was six instead of sixteen! She sniffed as she thought, A lot changed for me this year. It’s like none of that matters any more. It’s hard to consider that I was that girl just ten months ago.

She then continued reading the next entry.

August 14th, 1997

Dear Diary,

It has been a busy couple of days. Shopping at Diagon Alley was fun; Mum did let me get some new robes and even some new blouses and skirts. At least I don’t have to wear Ron’s cast offs of those! It was fun to watch Ron and Hermione together as a couple, especially since, being in public, they couldn’t snog constantly like they did at the beginning of the summer. Ugh!

Ron has surprised me with how attentive a boyfriend he can be. He opened doors for her, held her hand most of the day, didn’t try to rush her out of Flourish and Blotts and let her browse even though they both had all of their books, and didn’t even complain when she said that she didn’t think they had time to visit Quality Quidditch Supplies. I was disappointed that we had to skip that, too. Maybe there is hope for him yet.

Before we left the Alley, I did have a weird sensation like I was being watched for a few moments, but it was gone as quickly as it started. It was strange; it didn’t make me uncomfortable like when people stared at me during second year after my part in the Chamber. It was a pleasant feeling, like when Dean is looking at me from across the common room and he doesn’t know that I see him, but stronger. I know it wasn’t Dean; he’s still in Paris.

I had forgotten about that, she thought. That must have been Harry seeing me for the first time, before he ran over that poor first year. Imagining Harry helping the girl pick up all of her Hogwarts purchases caused her to chuckle.

Anyway, I spent the last two days helping the twins at the register and it was a lot of fun interacting with all of the customers. It was chaos at times, and the twins don’t help when they activate some of their products as a ‘demonstration’, but I still enjoyed it. I’ll have to see if I can get them to allow me to work there more next summer. A few extra Galleons would come in handy.

I thought I might see Dean when he did his Hogwarts shopping, but I never saw him. His last letter said that he thought he would be coming to Diagon Alley this week, and I was sort of hoping that he might come on one of the days I was working since I had sent him my schedule. Oh, well, not a big deal. I’ll see him again soon.

Ginny

Ginny was a little startled that she didn’t go into a rant at not seeing Dean. That certainly would have been in character for me, she thought with a grin. Perhaps the fact that I wasn’t that angry should have been the first clue that my feelings for him were changing.

August 31st, 1997

Dear Diary,

School starts tomorrow and I’ll finally get to see Dean again on the train. I should be really excited about that, but for some reason I am not as excited as I expected. It’s not that I don’t want to see him; it’s just that I’m more excited for N.E.W.T. classes, seeing my other friends, Quidditch, late night prowling, pranks, etc. It’s just odd. I’m sure it will be fine when I do see him again.

I am looking forward to this year. Ron and Hermione tell me that having the stress of O.W.L.s over and fewer classes, while challenging, makes sixth year one of the best years. Hopefully, Quidditch will be better, but I don’t have much hope since we still don’t have a Seeker. Ron should be great as captain, though; he really knows his stuff. Just don’t let him know that I said that.

I should probably go and finish packing. It looks like we might make the train on time this year; Hermione actually has Ron almost packed, so there won’t be so much last minute running around.

I’ll write to you tomorrow night about my reunion with Dean.

Ginny

Merlin! Another hint about my feelings for Dean, she thought. And I called Ron a thick git for ignoring his feelings for Hermione! She shook her head at her self-denial. It’s all so easy to see in retrospect. I guess I didn’t want to face the truth that we weren’t meant to be together.

September 1st, 1997

Dear Diary,

Wow! Normally the first day of school is a little crazy, but this year takes the cake. The usual morning craziness didn’t happen, thanks to Hermione’s intervention with Ron. Mum was also less emotional than normal at seeing us off; maybe she is becoming more comfortable with the fact that we are getting older. Although she still managed to get a little nudge in before I stepped on the train.

I met this boy on the platform, Brook, who is an American and a new student this year at Hogwarts. When we met, he acted as if he had never seen a girl before, which my mum must have taken that he fancied me at first sight, so she told me to be ‘nice’ to him. Mumspeak for flirting with him, and more, if she had her way. I couldn’t believe that she would say that; she knows I am dating Dean!

Anyway, before we stepped on the train, a bunch of Death Eaters Apparated onto the platform and started attacking students and their families. Thanks to the DA training and Professor Jones last year, I was able to hold my own. I even took out two myself! But one of them slipped behind me and was about to strike when Brook tackled me, pushing me out of the way of the Death Eater’s spell and casting an amazing shield that held until the Aurors arrived. I’ve never seen anything like this shield! It was almost solid looking and blocked everything that came at it. The Aurors arrived shortly afterwards and the Death Eaters Disapparated before they could be caught.

On the train, I did get to see Dean, but not for very long. The prat left after maybe thirty minutes to spend more time with Seamus! I’m thinking that maybe the next time he wants to snog in a broom cupboard I’ll tell him to take Seamus!

That sounds a bit harsh. I should probably give him a break. Seriously, I understand his wanting to spend time with Seamus. With his travelling this summer, he didn’t see his best friend either. If I hadn’t seen Hermione all summer I probably would want to spend more time with her than Dean myself.

Brook intrigued me. He’s had a really tumultuous last few months. In that time his parents were killed in a car accident, he learned he is a wizard, and he left all of his friends and entered into what must seem a very strange world. It’s hard for me to imagine how he endured through it. Despite all that, he seems to be pretty well adjusted. I felt so sorry for him when Luna explained to him why he could see the thestrals; for some reason I felt this compulsion to reach out and give him a hug and comfort him. Then, he looked so lost when we entered the Great Hall for the Opening Feast. He is definitely going to need some friends, so I guess I will try to be nice to him, just not my mum’s version of ‘nice’.

Better get to sleep; lessons start in the morning and I just hope I don’t have Snape first thing.

Ginny

Ginny eyes moistened as she thought back to her first meeting with Harry. I was interested in him from day one! It’s obvious that Mum saw the spark between us right away. I hate to admit it, but sometimes Mum does know best.

September 15, 1997

Dear Diary,

We had Quidditch trials this weekend, and things are looking up for Gryffindor! The American student that I was telling you about, Brook, is an incredible flyer and is our new Seeker. He has a Firebolt 2C and I don’t know if I have ever seen anyone fly better, other than maybe Viktor Krum. And the first time he was on a broom was just two months ago! He says that he flew aeroplanes in America and had a motorcycle. He said that flying a broom is sort of like a combination of the two. He shared with me that over the summer he occasionally slipped out of the dorms at night and took some midnight flies. Don’t know anyone else who would do anything like that. Wink, wink!

Brook is intriguing, but a puzzle. For example, after Quidditch try-outs, he had this huge grin from flying and was even comforting a third year who had tried out, offering to help her. Then, when I was talking to him about it and he was telling me about his father, he looked like a lost little boy. My heart was breaking for all he has lost, and so I did the only thing I could think of; I gave him a hug. He seemed to really appreciate it, but then, suddenly he pulled away and practically ran away from me. I just don’t understand him; one moment we seem to be on the path to becoming good friends, and then, the next, he’s avoiding everyone, including me, brooding off by himself.

My relationship with Dean is back to normal after I let him off the hook for leaving me for Seamus on the train. I didn’t make him grovel too long, I promise! It’s been pleasant to have someone to take study breaks with, and I did thank him properly for my birthday present the first time we visited ‘our’ spot by the lake.

He has been suggesting we move our relationship forward physically beyond snogging, and I thought I would be okay with that, but whenever his hands start to wander, it doesn’t feel right. Dean has been understanding about it, but I think that he is starting to get ‘frustrated,’ if you know what I mean. I had the same problem with Michael. I’m starting to wonder if I’m not attracted to boys. But I don’t think that’s it. Snogging them is fine, just nothing more. And I can’t say that I’ve ever felt any attraction to a girl in that way. Maybe I’m just not ready for the next step.

Ginny smirked at her concerns that she might be gay because of her reactions to Dean and Michael. All my time with Harry showed that it wasn’t the gender that was the problem, it was the guy! It must have been the Bond protecting me from going too far, she contemplated.

On the other hand, when I hugged Brook, for whatever reason, I didn’t want to let go. When he broke off the hug and walked away, I was a little stunned, both at how abruptly it had ended, and how much I missed it when he was gone. I admit that I also have been wondering how cute he would be riding that motorcycle. This isn’t right; I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. I like Dean and he’s been a good boyfriend. I’ll just have to watch it when I am alone with Brook.

Ginny

Ginny smacked herself lightly in the forehead with the palm of her hand. How dense can you be, woman?! she teased herself. Another tear formed as she recalled that Harry had promised to take her riding on that motorcycle this summer, if her parents allowed her to visit the States with him.

October 1, 1997

Dear Diary,

We won our first Quidditch match! Slytherin was pathetic; Malfoy’s father had purchased them all Firebolt 2C’s, but they could barely stay on them, never mind play Quidditch. Brook was amazing. He managed to catch the Snitch and save Malfoy’s life at the same time.

After the match, while we were celebrating, I saw Brook hugging Hermione and a strange feeling came over me. If I didn’t know better it was jealousy. I wanted to be in is arms, not Hermione.

I am really confused. Dean is nice and I enjoy spending time with him. Everyone says we are perfect for each other. We even talked about getting married someday. But do I love him? I thought I did. But if I love him, why can’t I stop thinking about Brook? It seems like he is everywhere, taunting me with a cute smile or a wink. He’s there at meals, on my way to class, in the library when I am trying to revise (not successfully by the way). I occasionally catch him staring at me from across the room and then he looks away quickly. Well, maybe not so occasionally. He actually does it a lot. Dean has even noticed. And, I must admit, I like it. He makes me feel … I don’t know, adored, wanted. I’m not sure what I feel, but whatever it is, I like it. But it’s different from how Dean makes me feel. Does Brook fancy me? Or is it just my imagination? I know I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that; it isn’t fair to Dean, but my mind is constantly pulled toward him.

Now I have to spend the whole day with him at Hogsmeade! What was I thinking when I invited him. At least I won’t be alone with him. Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Luna will all be there too. I’m not sure what I would do if I was alone with him. But it is fun to think about. I know it feels wonderful to be in his arms. What would kissing him feel like? Are his lips as soft as they look? No, I shouldn’t even consider things like that! I AM WITH DEAN! Diary, what am I going to do? Well, I guess I am not going to get any answers from you, other than the ones I know myself.

I’ll let you know how Hogsmeade goes.

Ginny

Finally! Ginny thought. It certainly took me long enough to figure out that I might fancy Brook.

October 4, 1997

Dear Diary,

HE KISSED ME!!! Of course, I mean Brook! And what a kiss! Dean’s kisses never make me feel like that. But then he ran off and I haven’t seen him since. I can’t believe it, but I think I’m falling for him. Now, I know what I need to do. I need to let Dean know how I feel and try not to hurt him too much.

Ginny

Ginny thought back to that Hogsmeade visit and remembered the wonderful time she had with Brook. Thank Merlin that Dean had that potion mishap! And that first kiss! She could still feel the chills when she recalled that moment.

October 27th, 1997

Dear Diary,

I can’t believe I am having to go through this all over again! Things had been going so well, but now it’s just like when Michael was sneaking around behind my back with that Cho bitch. Now, Brook and Luna are whispering about secrets and he won’t tell me what they are talking about. He’s even trying to blame it all on Dumbledore! What secret could he possibly have that the Headmaster is ordering him to not tell anyone?

And Luna! I thought she was my friend, but how could she be flirting with him like that? Why does she get to know this ‘secret’ and not me? He just makes me so angry! Well, I let him have it today and we are done!

Ginny

Ginny turned the page and read on, remembering the feelings of betrayal and heartache that had been so prevalent until she and Brook had finally discussed how they felt about each other.

October 29th, 1997

Dear Diary,

Was I premature in breaking up with Brook? When I think about it, it is so unlike Brook to sneak around and lie. Maybe he’s telling the truth and Dumbledore really has told him not to tell a secret. I am considering telling him that it’s okay if he doesn’t tell me his secret. The problem is that I am having a hard time getting him alone to talk to him.

I’ve never felt like this after splitting with a boyfriend. I feel so empty without him. And by the way he looks, he feels the same. He looks so miserable. I just want to go up to him and give him a hug.

But then I remember why I broke up with him. Ugh! I am acting like a nutter; I just don’t know what to do. What do you think Diary? Sometimes I wish you could give me answers back like Tom’s diary did.

But let’s not go there.

Ginny

She continued to turn the pages, reliving the emotions evoked by the events of the last year. The shock at learning that that Brook was actually Harry. The elation when he told her that he loved her. Her confusion about what they eventually learned was their Soul Bond. The delight of spending their first Christmas together. Her fear after realizing he was gone Christmas night. The pride that she felt in this man who had survived a duel with Voldemort and then the gauntlet of Weasleys as he told them the truth about who he was. Her anger at Rita Skeeter’s articles and the hate mail he received. The passion experienced in broom cupboards. The admiration she felt when she watched him comfort and nurture Lydia through the loss of her family, making her think about what a wonderful father he would be to their children. Her joy at his proposal. Her frustration at his stubbornness in refusing to leave the Quidditch match when he broke his arm. How she enjoyed it when he teased her about her efforts to learn how to use chopsticks. The way her heart melted when he told her that he wanted to be able to cherish the memory of the first time he saw her undressed. The compassion she felt when Russell had blamed him for the death of Aiden and Adelaide’s parents.

Then her eyes fell on the final entry.

June 28th, 1998

Dear Diary,

Exams are done. Just a few more days here at school and then home for the summer. Just a few more days before Hermione’s vision comes true. Since she saw me tied to a tree in the Forbidden Forest, I figure it must occur before we leave.

We still haven’t found a way for Harry to survive the Killing Curse. I keep hoping that there must be some other way for Hermione’s vision to occur without Harry dying, but I just don’t see how. I’ve been trying to stay upbeat and strong for Harry, and I have tried to cherish our time together, because I realize that this may be all we have.

But at moments like this, when I am alone, sitting in my bed, the fear of losing him overwhelms me. My dreams of our future life, being married to the man I love, have changed since I met Harry. Sure I still aspire to travelling the world playing Quidditch, but now I’m afraid I won’t fulfil my personal goals of raising children, crying as they climb on to the Hogwarts Express for the first time, or watching my husband, Harry, walking our daughter down the aisle because if Hermione’s vision comes true, the love of my life won’t be there to share these moments with me. I’m so afraid that if Harry walks into that forest clearing there will never be the chance for us to grow old together while we spoil our grandchildren rotten, all because he dies at Tom’s hand before any of it can occur.

Dear Diary, how will I go on without him?

Ginny

Ginny closed the diary, tapping it with her wand to activate the locking charms. She then lay down, hugging her diary, tears streaming down her face, and realized that she still didn’t have an answer to that question.

A/N: I know this chapter doesn't have the answers many of you were hoping for, but you will just have to patient.

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Chapter 39: A Dark Summer

A Dark Summer

Ginny awoke a few hours later. She looked over at the clock and saw that she had slept through lunch, but she still wasn’t hungry. She wiped the dried tears from her cheeks and picked up her diary again, considering whether writing would be helpful or not. After a moment of indecision, she tapped it with her wand and reached for a Self-Inking Quill that was on her bedside table.

July 3rd, 1998

Dear Diary,

She thought for a moment and scratched that out.

Dear Harry,

I miss you so much!

Yesterday was your funeral. In the morning was Professor Dumbledore’s funeral, followed by a meal in the Great Hall, and then yours in the afternoon, since the organizers decided that many people would want to attend both. The Headmaster’s funeral was much like you would expect with lots of people expounding on how great a man he was and all of his accomplishments, and quite frankly, it was hard for me to pay attention. I just didn’t care about what a ‘great loss his death was to the Wizarding world.’ Hermione was asked to speak. Apparently, it is tradition for the current Head Boy or Girl to speak when a headmaster dies in office. Surprise, surprise, Ron let Hermione do it, just like most of their Head duties. Hermione’s speech was okay, because she tried to put a few humorous stories that made him seem more human.

After a massive luncheon, of which I ate almost nothing, was your funeral. Most of the people who were at Dumbledore’s stayed for yours; so many of them didn’t know you at all and were there just because someone famous died. But in your short time in the Wizarding world, you did affect a lot of people. Of course, my family was there, sitting in the first row with Hermione and Lydia. The faculty, the DA and the Gryffindor Quidditch team sat in the next few rows. And in the back row sat Hagrid and a Dobby, both sobbing uncontrollably. If it wasn’t such a sad occasion, that pair sitting together would have been funny. Professor McGonagall tried to contact your friends from the States, but every letter she sent was returned. She and Hermione are trying to figure out what went wrong; it’s as if there is some block to post going through that pathway. It’s probably for the best as they would have to be Obliviated if they attended the service anyway. But other than that, most of the people were just there for appearances. You would have hated the speeches. The ceremony was a blur and I’m a little ashamed to admit that I don’t remember much of what was said. Several Ministry bigwigs blathered on and on about how great you were, how you saved us a baby, how your death should bring us together to face the current darkness, and all that rot.

Daddy was the only speaker who even knew you. He had a hard time getting through his speech as he described the real you. He told about meeting you for the first time at Christmas at the Burrow and how you responded to the scrutiny of the family for daring to date me. He told about how you put our family above yourself when you told them about your true identity and gave us an opportunity to protect ourselves by having you go back to school and how much he respected you for that. He told about how nervous you were when you asked for his blessing to marry me. He read part of the letter you wrote to Mum for Mother’s Day and told of the charm you gave her. You never even told me about that! But mostly he talked about how you affected me, how you made me so happy, that he felt like, for the first time in years, his little girl who had once been filled with joy was finally back. He finished by saying that he felt like he had not lost a son-in-law-to-be, but a son. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house. I’m not sure who was crying louder, Hagrid or Dobby.

After the funeral, there was a more private burial service in Godric’s Hollow. That’s where your parents are buried, as are many of your ancestors, so Remus said. It’s a small cemetery next to a church. It was a much more intimate group. My family, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Professor McGonagall, Remus and Tonks, and Lydia, who had a certain black dog on a leash, were the only people there, but it felt much more ‘right’ than the huge crowd at the school. Before they closed the coffin, we went up to view your body and were given a last chance to say good bye. You looked so peaceful, like you were just sleeping. Everyone told me that it wasn’t really you, that it was just your body, but I had a hard time believing them. Before I left, I reached out and touched your hand, and I swear I could feel you there. Far away, but I felt a glimmer of your love for me. And I heard your voice in my head, just like at that last moment, saying, “Trust your feelings.” It felt like you were talking to me through our Bond, but I’m sure it was my imagination. Hermione told me as much.

What did you mean by your final words to me? Trust you. Trust my feelings. I am not sure what you meant by that. I wish I did.

But I do understand your last words: I love you. Because I love you too and having that love torn from me is worse than the Cruciatus Curse. At least when under the curse, you always know that the pain will end, which is what gets you through it. But I don’t think this pain will end. People say that time heals all wounds, but today, I don’t believe them. I’m afraid the girl that my daddy was so happy to see back will never be the same again.

Yours forever,

Ginevra

Surprisingly, Ginny felt better after writing in her diary. It wasn’t the same as talking to Harry, but it was like he was just on a trip, perhaps to visit his friends in America, and she was writing a letter to him. His death didn’t feel so final while she was writing him. So, she continued to write periodically.

July 6th, 1998

Dear Harry,

Things are starting to return to a more normal summer at the Burrow. Mum is cooking again and harping on us to clean our rooms. We have had to degnome the garden every morning. Oh, yeah, you never had that pleasure. You remember the gnome that the twins placed on the Christmas tree, right? Well, it was just one of the many gnomes that live in our garden that try to eat our vegetables and we have to catch them and throw them over the fence, but they always seem to sneak back in. It’s not hard, just tedious, and frustrating, knowing they will be back in just a few hours.

We received your N.E.W.T. scores today, as did Hermione and Ron. You received ‘O’s on all three of your exams, with a special commendation on Defence practical exam for the best score in over a decade! I’m so proud of you! Hermione, of course, received ten N.E.W.T.s, all with ‘O’s. She was especially proud of her Defence score, since she only received an Exceeds Expectations on her Defence O.W.L. Ron received a respectable six.

It seems like I miss you more each day. The first night after you died, I couldn’t sleep, so I sneaked up in your dorm, and lay down in your bed. You had left your Weasley jumper out on your comforter (you do know that it was too warm to wear it that day, don’t you?) and I hugged it, taking in your smell that it still held. Regrettably, it is starting to lose its smell, but I still sleep with it every night. Maybe I could ask Hermione if there is a charm that could help it keep its scent. But that would probably make her worry about me even more than she is. I also took your Invisibility Cloak. I hope that’s okay; I knew you wouldn’t want it to fall into anyone else’s hands.

Ron and Hermione have been hovering around me, constantly asking me how I am feeling. I don’t know what has possessed them, but they are really starting to annoy me. I can’t wait for them to start their jobs so they can leave me alone. Maybe I can go flying later today and get away from them for a bit.

Wish you could fly with me. Maybe I’ll have Hedwig fly with me like she used to with you. Unfortunately, I am guessing that it won’t have the same effect on me that it used to. I’m afraid that the freedom I used to feel in the air just won’t be there anymore. I guess I’ll try anyway.

Yours forever,

Ginevra

**********

July 10th, 1998

Dear Harry,

Well, I figured out why Ron and Hermione have been constantly asking about how I am feeling, and it’s your fault, you git! I finally became fed up with the incessant coddling from them, so I asked them what was up. After threatening them with a favourite hex of mine, I was able to get them to admit that your final words to them were to help me through this. At first, I didn’t understand, but Hermione explained that it had to do with the severing of the Soul Bond.

It’s a little scary that I only have a few more weeks to live, but I guess we will be reunited soon on the next great adventure. The funny thing is that I don’t feel any different, at least magically. Sure, I am tired, depressed, empty, listless, etc., but nothing like what I am supposed to be feeling since our Bond was severed. I even checked my magical power with a Diffindo at some trees in the woods near our house, and it seemed like it was just fine. Hermione doesn’t understand it, so she is pulling out her books again and trying to research what the experience of other Soul Bond couples was. At least that helped her to start acting more like her normal self. I wish I could say the same.

I’ve been having nightmares again, this time of the day you died. Then I wake up in a cold sweat. The only thing that is getting me through the nights is holding your Weasley jumper. I just wish that it wasn’t so empty.

Yours forever,

Ginevra

**********

Ginny was walking through a fog bank, her heart racing. She was looking frantically for something or someone, when, out of the mist, the shape of a man started to appear. She picked up her pace and the shape transformed into Harry, who had that smirk on his face that she loved. He reached out his hand as she approached, and, when their hands touched, a spark travelled down her arm, giving her a chill.

“Ready?” she said. At his nod, she added, “Let’s end this, together!” They began walking together through the fog and, suddenly, a large mansion loomed over them. She looked over at Harry, squeezed his hand with a grin, thinking, This is it! and walked confidently toward the building.

Ginny awoke from her dream feeling better than she had in what seemed like ages. She felt warm, safe, loved. She opened her eyes, seeing that it was still dark, and rolled over, seeking Harry so that she could snuggle with him, just like they had over the Easter hols.

But he wasn’t there. And then she remembered.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned over to see Hermione’s face, filled with concern. My crying must have awakened her. Hermione held her arms out to Ginny and she melted into her best friend’s hug.

She was unsure how long Hermione held her and rocked her before she regained control. She sat up and grabbed a handkerchief from her bedside table, drying her tears and blowing her nose. “Sorry about that.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” replied Hermione. “I’d be more worried about you if you weren’t crying.”

A comfortable silence passed between the two friends. “Are you alright, Ginny?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Well, not really, but I should let you get back to sleep.”

Hermione nodded and rose, getting back into her own bed.

After a few moments, Ginny asked, “Hermione, are you still awake?”

“Yes.”

“What do Muggles believe happens when you die?” Ginny asked, her voice cracking.

There was a pause before Hermione responded. “They have lots of different beliefs. Some believe that when we die, that’s the end and our bodies just rot in the ground.” Ginny shuddered at that possibility. “Others believe in something called reincarnation, in which the soul comes back in a new body, and the form of that new body depends on how you lived the previous life.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a form of justice called ‘karma.’ If you live a good life, you’ll come back as a higher form, while if you’re evil, you’ll return as something lower.”

“Like Malfoy would come back as a ferret?” asked Ginny.

“Or maybe a dung beetle,” giggled Hermione.

Ginny laughed along with her friend. After she settled down, she asked, “What would Harry come back as?”

Hermione thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. Something or somebody carefree with no problems or difficulties? That’s what he would deserve after everything he had to deal with in this life.”

“Any other beliefs?” Ginny asked.

“The most common one is that you go to heaven or hell, again depending on how you lived your life. Heaven is like paradise, a reward for serving God well, while hell is like an eternal Cruciatus Curse for disobeying Him.”

Ginny pondered the possibilities for a moment. “What do you believe? Where do you think Harry is?” Her voice cracked again as she added more quietly, “Where will I be going?”

“I don’t know. Dumbledore talked about death as the Next Great Adventure. I would like to believe that Harry is in a place like heaven, finally getting to know his birth parents.” Ginny was surprised when Hermione let out a little snort. “Can you visualize the Peltons and the Potters trading embarrassing baby stories, making him turn all red?” she said, giggling again.

Ginny chuckled at that picture. “Harry would like that, even though he’d probably deny it.”

Hermione continued imagining what heaven would be like for Harry. “All of his problems behind him. Spending his time flying brooms with his magical father and flying airplanes with his Muggle father.”

“I can picture that,” replied Ginny. “He’ll probably be having so much fun that he won’t even notice me when I arrive,” she said, sounding very much like the insecure girl that Hermione remembered after the Chamber.

“Are you kidding, Ginny? Harry is probably waiting impatiently for you.” After a pause, Hermione added, “I have a confession to make to you. When we were at the cottage over Easter break, I overheard a private conversation between you and Harry. You were working on dinner, and I was feeling a little guilty about not helping and so I left Ron and was about to enter the kitchen when I heard the two of you talking. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing.”

“That’s alright,” said Ginny.

“Do you remember what you were talking about?”

“Harry said the cottage was reminding him that he was supposed to spend the break with his parents.”

“Right, but when you suggested that we could stay somewhere else, he said it wasn’t so much that he was missing his parents, but that he was missing the chance for his parents to know you.” She paused for a moment. “I’m sure Harry can’t wait for you to get there so he can introduce you to his parents, both sets. Don’t you worry, Ginny. If there is anything that I am sure of concerning the afterlife, it is that you two will be together, forever.”

Ginny’s eyes moistened again, but this time they were happy tears. “Thanks, Hermione. I guess my future isn’t so scary if I think of it that way.” She rolled over, thinking of spending eternity with Harry, and fell asleep contented for the first time since Harry was taken to the Ministry.

July 15th, 1998

Dear Harry,

Hermione and Ron started their jobs this week. Hermione is in paradise; she’s never seen so many books as at the Department of Mysteries. Since she is just starting, they are allowing her to establish her own research agenda, so she is spending most of her time split between trying to find a way to defeat Voldemort and trying to understand why I seem to be doing alright. I still am showing no effects from the severing of the Soul Bond. She has taken her translations to another Unspeakable for help.

Ron comes home every day exhausted, sore, but ecstatic to be making a living at Quidditch. He says that the coaches use some of the physical training methods you recommended last season, so they have been impressed with his fitness, as most rookies don’t have any experience with these drills when they start.

I guess having Hermione and Ron off at work is a mixed blessing. They are not here during the day and I don’t have to put up with their constant hovering. And when they get home in the evenings, they are both excited to tell everyone about their days. They also miss each other, so they go off for some couple time. While I was looking forward to less attention from them, it also means I am alone a lot more. Sure, I have chores to do, even a few more now that Ron is gone all day, but it still leaves long times during the day when I have nothing to do but think of you, of us. It’s hard not to dwell on what we had, what our lives could have been had you lived, what we dreamed of. Sorry, I just can’t help falling into these dark valleys sometimes.

One other piece of news. It seems that Ron and Hermione are engaged! He asked her right after N.E.W.T.s, before … you know, everything. They were originally going to tell us the evening that you were taken to the Ministry. Since then, they say there just hadn’t been the right time for an announcement. They told Mum and Dad right after we returned home, and I think some of my other brothers know. I learned of it when I overheard a discussion in the kitchen when they thought I was napping. They were talking with my parents about when to tell me. They were keeping it from me, trying to spare my feelings, not feeling right about celebrating good news when I am so sad. I walked in the room, hugged them both and congratulated them. And then I thanked them for being so concerned about me. Then I told them that I was happy for them, and you would have been too. But I left quickly and went back to my room and had a cry. We were the ones who were supposed to be planning our wedding this summer, not them!

Yours forever,

Ginevra

She skipped a day writing to Harry because something her entire family had been looking forward to took place on the sixteenth.

July 17th, 1998

Dear Harry,

At four past three this morning, Catherine Harriette Weasley was born! Yes, her middle name is after you. She and mother are both doing well (though how Fleur can look that good after 18 hours of labour, I don’t understand. Well, maybe I do, but it’s just not fair!) Cat, as they are going to call her, is the most adorable baby and Aunt Ginny (I love that name!) was one of the first to hold her, after the Grandmums, of course. It was amazing, getting to hold this life in my arms, knowing that she is totally dependent on her parents for everything.

As I held her, though, I couldn’t help being sad that I would never get to hold our baby. Never get to see you hold our baby. Never suffer through late night feedings, or watching you fumble with changing her nappies.

That is what’s really not fair; that we can’t have that future.

Yours forever,

Ginevra

**********

“Much better!” said Ginny as she returned to her room from a shower. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so disgusting after cleaning.”

Hermione, who was sitting on her bed reading, said, “Mmhmm,” but showed no inclination that she could be distracted from her book.

Ginny just shrugged her shoulders and plopped down on her own bed. Finally! Time to myself so I can write Harry. She picked up her diary and quill and began writing.

July 26th, 1998

Dear Harry,

Sorry it has been a few days since I wrote, but my diary was misplaced in the chaos of moving. You see, since I wrote last, there have been some scares around the country due to Death Eater attacks. Then, one night the wards around the Burrow showed evidence that someone was trying to break them. The Order thought it might be safer for us to leave for a while, so that Bill can strengthen the wards even more. Because of this, we are hiding out in Grimmauld Place, Sirius’ ancestral home. Professor McGonagall placed it under the Fidelius Charm to keep us safe. Sirius had made a few rooms habitable for Lydia and him, but the rest is in horrible shape, so we have been spending most of our days cleaning it up, making it liveable. Our days have been spent painting, dusting, de-doxifying, weeding, and anything else that Mum can think of. Just today we finally made enough progress to start unpacking what Mum calls “unessentials,” which included everything in my room except for clothes. Now I can write to you again more regularly.

News is sketchy, but it sounds like the Wizarding world might be collapsing. Of course, the Daily Prophet is reporting everything is fine, but we know that the Ministry is censoring everything that is being written.

Unfortunately, that is all I know for now,

Yours forever,

Ginevra

Back to index


Chapter 40: The Last Will and Testament of Harry James Potter

Author's Notes: Here is the chapter that many of you have been waiting for. Hope you enjoy it.


The Last Will and Testament of Harry James Potter

July 31st, 1998

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! You would have been eighteen today. It seems strange that with everything we shared in our time together that we never had a chance to celebrate either of our birthdays together. Sometimes when I forget that you are gone, I’ll find myself thinking that I need to go shopping and find the perfect gift for you. I had some good ideas before everything happened; I knew you would probably need some things for your new home after leaving Hogwarts, but I was waiting to see what kind of place you were living in.

You’ve been gone a month now and, despite what people have been reassuring me, the pain is not decreasing; I miss you so much. It feels like a piece of me is missing, and I know that I won’t be able to find it again.

Surprisingly, I am still not feeling any effects from the Soul Bond being severed. Hermione’s research hasn’t turned up anything to explain it, as by this time, in every recorded case, the surviving member of the couple was close to death. Ironically, during her research on that problem, she found a spell that she is sure could be used to defeat Tom. Unfortunately, only you and I together can perform it. Great! Now when she finally finds it, you’re gone and we can’t do it.

Before she could finish her entry, she heard a knock on the door of the room she shared with Hermione. “Come in,” she said and her mum opened the door enough to peek in.

“Ginny, you need to come down. We are going to have company this morning, so get dressed quickly and come to the sitting room.”

Ginny was puzzled as her door closed. Company? she thought. Who could be visiting us? What about the Fidelius? She quickly pulled on a jumper and jeans, brushed her hair, and stopped in the loo before going downstairs. In the sitting room, she saw the rest of the family, including Ron and Hermione, who should have been at work, and a man she had never seen, with Harry’s trunk, his Firebolt resting on top of it.

Her father said, “Ginny, this is Mr Smythe, a worker in the legal department of the Ministry. He’s a good chap; I know him from my years at the Ministry, but we don’t want to put him in danger for doing his job. He has agreed to be Obliviated after his business here is concluded.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr Smythe,” said Ginny, hesitantly reaching out her hand to the man.

“And nice to meet you, too, Miss Weasley. I just wish it was under happier circumstances.”

Ginny was puzzled even more and her mum, noticing the confusion on her face, sat down on the sofa next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Ginny, Mr Smythe works with the Ministry Department of Wills and Inheritances. He is here to read Harry’s will.”

Ginny’s heart stopped for a moment. She hadn’t even thought about Harry leaving a will; they had never talked about something like that. Her eyes started to moisten and her mum put her arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, Ginny; we’re here to help you get through this.”

“But Harry died a month ago. Why did it take so long for you to give the will to us?” asked Ginny.

“Isn’t it obvious?” said Hermione, before Mr Smythe could answer. “They wanted to search through what Harry left. You had no right to do that, Mr Smythe!” she said, in an angry, trembling voice.

“Now, now, Hermione,” said Mr Weasley. “No reason to attack Mr Smythe. He is only the messenger; he didn’t hold up Harry’s will himself. That was the Ministry’s doing.”

“Yes, Miss Granger,” said Mr Smythe, in a very calming voice. “You are correct that the Ministry was searching through Mr Potter’s belongings, such as they are. Unfortunately, the Decree for Justifiable Confiscation does give the Ministry the right to do just that.”

“That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artefacts,” said Hermione, “and the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased’s possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Harry was trying to pass on something cursed?”

“I didn’t think anything of the sort, Miss Granger, but I was ordered to let high level Ministry employees to inspect Mr Potter’s trunk, so I had to comply. I assure you that I was present for all the examinations as an advocate for Mr Potter and Miss Weasley and, despite all of their efforts, they didn’t find anything.”

Good thing I grabbed Harry’s Invisibility Cloak the night he died when I nicked his Weasley jumper, thought Ginny. She lowered her head and covered her mouth to hide her smile at beating the Ministry at their own game.

“I also insisted that Mr Potter’s possessions be passed on today, as the law only allows the Ministry to delay the reading of a will for thirty-one days,” continued Mr Smythe. “I am sorry that this has occurred to you, Miss Weasley, but the Ministry was within its rights. Let’s proceed, shall we?” He pulled out a parchment and started reading.

“I, Harry James Potter, being of sound mind and of the age of majority, declare that this is my last will and testament, written this date, June 26th, 1998. I hereby leave all of my earthly belongings, including all of the holdings of the Potter Family vault in Gringotts, all properties owned by the Potter Family, and Hedwig, to Ginevra Molly Weasley. Had I lived longer, all of it would have been hers after our wedding anyway, so it seems appropriate that she receive it now that I am gone.

Ginny, you are my life, my sun, my moon, my star. You are my Briar Rose, a beautiful flower surrounded by thorns; thank you for letting me past your defences to see your inner beauty. After my adoptive parents died, I thought everything was over, but you brought me back to life with your smile, your kiss. Always remember my final words to you.

Harry James Potter

Ginny bent over with her face in her hands, her entire body shaking. Her mum patted her on the back, trying to comfort her. She barely heard Mr Smythe say, “As you can see, I’ve brought Mr Potter’s trunk. And here is the key to the Potter Family vault,” giving it to Mr Weasley. “In the vault, you can find a list of the other holdings of the Potter Family. I am sorry for your loss, Miss Weasley. I will take my leave now.” Mr Weasley left with him to Side-Apparate him back to the Ministry.

Ginny asked through her hands, “Is he gone?”

“Yes, dear, he left. Now, now, honey, it will be alright,” said her mum.

Ginny lifted her head with tears streaming down her face, but with a huge smile instead of the sad appearance everyone expected. She jumped up and started hugging everyone and dancing around the room, shocking her family. Everyone looked at each other, shrugging and not understanding what had possessed Ginny to act like this.

Hermione extricated herself from Ginny’s hug and asked, “Are you alright, Ginny? Maybe you better lie down.”

“She’s finally gone mental,” muttered Ron.

“No, I’m not mental, Ron. Don’t you see; the will was a message to me. Harry’s not dead! He’s just asleep!”

“Now, now, dear. You’re just overwrought. I know you don’t want to admit this, but he’s gone, really gone. We all need to accept this and move on with our lives,” said her mum.

“No, don’t you see; the will is a message to me.” She turned to her best friend, the will in hand. “Hermione, you look at it. Don’t you see it?” she pleaded.

Hermione read the parchment closely. “I’m sorry, Ginny, but it’s seems to be fairly clear; it’s just a will.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Hermione, you’re supposed to be the smartest witch of our generation. Think! You, too, Ron. First, Harry wouldn’t have left everything to me if he knew that I was going to die in a month. That wouldn’t make any sense. Now, think about the other clues he left. Remember the movies we watched on our Easter holiday?”

“Yeah,” said Ron slowly. “But what does that have to do with Harry’s will?”

“Remember Sleeping Beauty? What was the name of the princess?”

Hermione quickly answered, “Aurora.” She paused as she thought, but then, as if a light bulb turned on, her eyes darting over the parchment. She said, “No, wait, she was called ‘Briar Rose’ when she went into hiding.” She paused again, studying every word of the will closely, her lips moving very slightly as she puzzled out the hidden meaning.

After a few minutes, she raised her head, a huge smile on it. “Ginny, I think you’re right! This is a message!”

“I’m still not following,” said Ron.

Hermione responded, “Ron, remember in Sleeping Beauty , the princess was pricked by the spindle and slept as if she was dead for years. It took the kiss of her true love to revive her. That’s what Harry’s saying in the will. See, here, he calls Ginny his Briar Rose, which to us seems odd, because Harry never called her that. Briar Rose was the name the princess used when she was in hiding; that must mean that Harry is in hiding. Then, he writes about Ginny bringing him back to life with her kiss. It all fits! Ginny, it says to remember his final words. What does he mean?”

“When he came to me in the forest, he sent a message to me through our Bond about trusting him and trusting my feelings.”

“He told us to trust your feelings too,” added Ron.

Ginny reached out and put her hand on Hermione’s arm. “Remember what I said the two times I touched him after he died? Right after he was hit with the curse and when I touched his hand at the funeral? I felt that he was still there, just far away. Everyone told me that it was just my grief and my imagination, but it must have been real. He’s really alive! Somehow, he must have had a plan to survive the Killing Curse again, putting himself into a death-like state. This explains why I can still feel a glimmer of him through our connection, and why I am not feeling any side effects of the his dying. We have to go to him and revive him!”

“How are we going to do that?” asked Ron, still not following fully.

“With a kiss, of course! Let’s see, we need to go to Godric’s Hollow and go to the cemetery so we can dig up his coffin,” she said frantically, her head darting back and forth with plans. “Hermione, do you know if there are any spells or charms to prevent us from getting in? Ron, go get Harry’s Invisibility Cloak in my room; I am guessing he should stay in hiding after we resurrect him. We can keep him hidden under it once he’s awake. Have I forgotten anything?”

“Wait one second!” said Mrs Weasley, who had been trying to follow the rapid fire discussion patiently, but finally stepped in. She pointed her finger at the three teens. “If you think that I am going to let the three of you go to Godric’s Hollow and exhume Harry’s body based on some hints that you say are in this will, you are sadly mistaken. First, it’s not safe for you to be out with the Ministry under You-Know-Who. Second, how can you possibly infer from those sentences that Harry is still alive? Ginny, I know that you miss him terribly, we all do, but I think you are letting your imagination and your wishes colour your thinking.”

“Mum, it all makes sense,” Ginny pleaded. “You know that Hermione is puzzled because I feel fine and my magic seems intact despite Harry dying. In every other case, the survivor of the Soul Bonding deteriorates almost immediately upon the death of his or her partner. As to the clues in the will, trust me, Harry never called me his ‘Briar Rose’; he may have some pet names for me, but that definitely is not one of them. I am sure he knew that the Ministry would be reviewing his will, and didn’t want them to catch on. And in the next sentence, he practically spells it out for us, especially since we saw a movie in which this exact thing occurred.”

Mr Weasley walked in at that moment after returning Mr Smythe to the Ministry. “A movie? A Muggle movie? What movie did you see?”

“That’s not important, Arthur,” said Molly. “What is important is that Ginny thinks that Harry is still alive and wants to break into his coffin and kiss his dead body to bring him back to life!”

“What?” he said, the shock clear on his face. “What makes you think he is alive, Ginny?”

Ginny went through all the clues, but Mr Weasley was as sceptical as his wife.

Hermione said, “Arthur and Molly, I know this sounds farfetched, but I agree with Ginny; it does fit and I think it’s at least worth exploring. What harm can it do to at least try?”

“Well, besides the obvious desecration of a grave, it’s not safe, like I said earlier,” responded Mrs Weasley, her hands on her hips.

“It’s not like we can’t defend ourselves. Ron and Hermione received two of the top three grades in Defence this past year and both earned ‘O’s on their N.E.W.T.s. And they have been through several battles this past year with Death Eaters,” argued Ginny.

“And you, Ginny, can’t do any magic as you are not of age yet,” said Mr Weasley. “I know you can defend yourself, but we don’t need the Ministry using a citation for performing underage magic as justification for taking you from us.”

Ginny grabbed her father’s hands and pleaded, tears in her eyes as she looked up at him. “Please, Daddy! I know that Harry’s still alive.”

Arthur considered her request for a moment. He sighed and patted her hands. “Alright, Firefly.” Before his wife could start ranting, he stopped her with a look and raised an open palm to her. “I know, Molly, it’s not safe.” He turned back to the teens. “I would feel better if some members of the Order accompanied you three. I have heard rumours that the Ministry is guarding Godric’s Hollow as a likely site for enemies of You-Know-Who to make protests or other statements. They also don’t want the Potters’ graves to be turned into an inspiration for martyrdom for rebels against the government. I am not sure I like the idea, but I understand why you want to try. We can use Disillusionment Charms on everyone, get in and out quickly, and hopefully your hunch is correct.”

“Oh, thank you, Daddy,” said Ginny as she hugged him. “I just know that I am right. When can we go?”

“While going to a cemetery at night doesn’t thrill me, I think waiting until after dark would be best. Less chance of us being seen. I’ll contact the others to make sure they can come also.”

That evening, everyone gathered in the front room of the house in preparation for their mission and Mr Weasley reviewed their plan. “Everyone understand what we need to do? Remus, Sirius, Tonks, and I will surround the cemetery, watching for anything suspicious and providing protection if necessary. The three of you will go inside, pull out Harry’s coffin, let Ginny kiss him, and then we will get out of there as quickly as possible.” He turned to his daughter and looked at her intensely. “Ginny, if it doesn’t work, you have to accept it and leave with the rest of us. Understand?”

“Yes, I understand, Daddy,” Ginny murmured, nodding her head.

Arthur turned back to the group. “Everyone has one of Hermione’s DA coins that we can use to signal each other if anything goes awry. If you feel yours heat up, just Apparate out of there instantly; don’t ask any questions. Tonight is not the night for a battle. Ready, everyone?” Each member of the team nodded and they walked outside.

Remus, Sirius, and Tonks all Apparated to the graveyard first to scout the area. While they were waiting, Arthur pulled Ron and Hermione aside. “You two, make sure to get Ginny out of there if she’s wrong and Harry isn’t alive,” he whispered. “I don’t know how she will respond if her hopes are dashed again.”

Ron and Hermione nodded in understanding, just moments before the coins of the four who had stayed behind heated up, signalling that it was safe for them to come. Mr Weasley and the three teens then Apparated to the entrance of the cemetery. Mr Weasley gave Ginny a quick squeeze around the shoulders and then assumed his position in front of the entrance to watch for Death Eaters.

Hermione pointed her wand at the hinges of the gate and uttered a quiet “ Lubricus ” so that they could open the gate without any creaking. Ron pulled on the handle, they all slipped in, and Ron closed it again without a sound. They walked quickly toward the Potter family gravesite, guided by the shining marble of two tombstones.

When they arrived, Hermione swept her wand around, muttering quietly, raising wards that made the area invisible and preventing their detection. They then cancelled the Disillusionment Charms on the three of them. Responding to Hermione’s nod, Ron then pointed his wand at Harry’s grave and said, “Cavo quadratus,” digging a rectangular hole around the coffin and then used Locomotor coffin to raise it and place it on the ground next to the pile of dirt. Ginny went over to the coffin, took a deep breath, and, with Ron’s help, broke the seal, and lifted the lid.

All three let out a sigh of relief when Harry’s body looked just as it had at the funeral and showed no sign of decay, giving them further hope that they had interpreted Harry’s will correctly. Ginny took another deep breath and said, “I guess I know what I need to do.” She leaned over and placed her lips on his. His lips were cold, but otherwise felt normal to her. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to happen as she could not see any reaction. Resignedly, as she began to pull back, she felt a twitch in Harry’s lips. Emboldened, she kissed a little harder, and she began to feel Harry’s lips start to move and return her kiss. His lips began to warm, she heard him take a deep breath, followed by a moan. Before she knew it, she felt a hand run through her hair. She felt a warmth travel through her body, a peace that she hadn’t realized she felt in his presence until he was gone this past month.

“Harry! You are alive!” she heard Hermione scream behind her, causing her to start to stand up, but Harry’s hand pulled her back to him and they began kissing again. After just a moment, Hermione and Ron were at their side and they had to stop. Ginny stood up and Harry sat upright before she was pushed out of the way by Hermione engulfed him in a hug.

“Hermione, please, I can hardly breathe,” gasped Harry. She let go and apologized under her breath.

“You didn’t look like you were having any problems breathing when you were snogging my sister, mate. Welcome back, Harry,” said Ron with a grin, as he pulled him into a hug as well, slapping him on the back.

After Ron released him, Harry swung his legs up to the edge of the coffin and Ron helped him out. Hermione admonished, “Not too fast, now; don’t want you to pass out on us.” All three of them had tears streaming down their faces in joy that he was back. Harry did wobble a little as he stood up, but Ron prevented him from falling. He then went over to Ginny again and gave her a proper hug and kiss.

“I have missed you so much; it was like a part of me was gone,” Ginny whispered in between sobs.

“Harry, I hate to interrupt this reunion, but we need to get you out of here. Then we can continue this at home,” said Hermione.

“There are a lot of people who want to see you, and to hear your explanation as to how and why you did what you did,” said Ron. “Here is your cloak. Put it on before we leave.” Using his wand, Ron put the lid back on the coffin, replaced it in the hole in the ground, and covered it with the dirt, leaving no evidence they had been there.

Hermione pulled out her DA coin, tapped it, sending the message to the guards outside, “Success!” Harry, pulling his cloak on, leaving just a disembodied head visible, asked, “To the Burrow, then?”

Ginny hooked her arm through his and said, “No. We are living at Grimmauld Place under the Fidelius Charm with the rest of the Order. Hermione is the Secret Keeper. I’ll Side-Apparate you; we don’t want to take any chances in case your strength is not back yet.” And with three small pops, they disappeared.

They reappeared in a deserted city square, and Ginny said, “Here we are.” Harry could see a row of dirty buildings, some seemingly abandoned as there were broken windows and rubbish on the stoops. In the one that was inhabited, he could see a family watching television through the window, obviously a Muggle residence, and was confused. The other three started to cross the street, leaving Harry staring at them.

Hermione looked back, noticing that Harry wasn’t following them, and said, “Oh, right. Sorry about that,” and handed Harry a small piece of parchment. On the parchment, in fine, elegant handwriting, he read, “ The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. ” Harry looked at the houses in front of him, noticing number 11 and number 13, but no number 12. “There is no number 12,” he said, befuddled.

“Think about what you just read,” said Hermione. Harry did as he was told, and, suddenly, the two houses separated, revealing another house between the two. Ron and Hermione walked up the steps that led to a large door with a snake head knocker and opened the door. Ginny, noticing Harry’s gaping mouth, grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs as well. As they walked down a dark corridor, suddenly a screeching voice yelled out, “The filthy Mudblood is back! Get her out of here! I will not have the house of my fathers further stained by the presence of such scum as her and you blood traitors!” Harry looked up and noticed that the screamer was an old woman in a portrait at the end of the corridor. Ron pointed his wand at the portrait and flicked it, causing curtains over the portrait to close; the yelling stopped.

“That’s Sirius’ mother, Walburga Black,” explained Ginny. “She is always going on about blood purity and how we are besmirching her residence. We’ve done everything we can think of to get her down, but she must have been put up with a Permanent Sticking Charm. You get used to her after a while.” They then entered a room on the left, which appeared to be a formal dining room. At the table were seated Molly, Bill, Fleur, and the twins. As Harry entered the room, chaos ensued. After much screaming, hugging, and shedding of joyous tears, everyone started peppering Harry with questions too fast for him to answer. Finally, he held up his hand, saying, “Please, everyone, I will explain everything shortly, but first, is it possible for me to get something to eat? I haven’t eaten in what seems like days. I am just a little famished.”

“Oh, of course, Harry,” said Molly as she ushered everyone into the kitchen, and ordered Harry to sit at the table.

Before he had a chance to sit down, Harry was almost knocked over by a small blonde blur. “It’s really you! It’s really you!”

Harry looked down and recognized that he was being hugged by Lydia. He hugged her back, patting her on the back. “Yes, it’s me, pipsqueak,” he said with a chuckle. Addressing the group, he said, “Thanks for the warm welcome, but you all act like I’ve been gone forever. It’s only been a couple days, right?”

“It’s been a month, Harry,” said Ginny. “Let me be the first to wish you a Happy Birthday!” giving his a peck on his cheek.

Harry’s mouth gaped open as he fell into an open chair. He ran a hand through his hair. “A month? How could it be a month? Weren’t my clues obvious enough?”

“Ginny figured it out immediately,” said Hermione. “We didn’t get the will until today because the Ministry delayed the reading to make sure there was no Dark magic involved,” she spat out in unveiled contempt.

Harry grabbed Ginny into his lap and hugged her. “Merlin, Gin, I’m sorry. I never would have put you through that if I knew I was going to be asleep for a month. I looked into Wizarding law and thought my will would be read right after my funeral. It certainly wasn’t my intention to keep you in the dark that long. I can’t imagine what you went through.”

Ginny relished the hug, whispering, “It’s all worth it; you’re back, aren’t you?”

Molly came over to the table and handed Harry a plate with two sandwiches and some fruit. “Tomorrow I will fix you a feast worthy of your birthday, Harry.” The rest of the group followed and gathered around the table to hear his tale.

As he was eating, a blonde woman walked into the kitchen. “I heard the commotion and came down. I take it your mission was a success?”

Harry looked up, and gasped. “Aubrey! What are you doing here?” asked Harry.

“That’s my doing,” said Sirius as he walked up behind her, and put his arms around her waist from behind. “When you saved Aubrey over the Easter holidays, I was instantly entranced by her.” He kissed her lightly on the neck. “While we were still staying at Fairview Bluff, I went into town and found her again, this time as myself and not Padfoot, introducing myself as one of your friends. Since then, I have been sneaking out of here and visiting her. At first, she didn’t want anything to do with me, but, eventually, she finally succumbed to my charm and we started dating.

“About six weeks ago, while I was there, all hell broke loose when several Death Eaters Apparated out of nowhere and tried to capture her. They weren’t expecting me or any magical resistance, so I was able to Apparate her back here to safety. It was then that I explained about the magical world, and that I was actually a wizard, as well as the truth about how you saved her.”

“You can imagine what a shock that was to me,” interjected Aubrey. “He also explained to me why you lied to me about your ‘ESP’. I’ll have to admit I was a little put out at first, but I understand it a little more now that I have been spending more time in this world.”

“At first, we couldn’t figure out why the Death Eaters would come after her,” Sirius continued, “but, after we heard about your trial, it made sense that they were going to convince or force her to testify against you. We decided that it would be safest for her to stay here. My mother isn’t too happy about it, a Muggle living in her house,” he said, pointing his thumb toward the entryway. He then grinned and added, “Sometimes I like to wind her up by snogging Aubrey right in front of her. After she gets a few rants in, we just close the curtain on her and she shuts up.”

After Harry had finished the sandwiches washed down with pumpkin juice, he said, “Much better. Maybe now you’ll be able to hear me speak above the grumbling of my stomach. So, what did you all want to talk to me about?” a cheeky grin on his face.

After a receiving a slap on the arm from Lydia and dodging a grape thrown by Ron, he offered, “You don’t, perhaps, want to know why and how I faked my death, do you?

“Yes, Harry, tell us. We combed through every section of the library trying to find anything that would help you,” said Hermione.

He smiled again. “It turns out that we were all looking in the wrong place. Instead of searching the Restricted Section, we should have been looking in the Muggles Studies Section.” Everyone’s faces showed a look of confusion before Harry continued. “One night after hearing Hermione’s vision, I was exhausted, but couldn’t sleep. My brain was racing, trying to come up with any other ideas on where to look for a solution. Of course, N.E.W.T.s were also coming up and my mind was just swirling with things I needed to remember. I decided that I needed to read something unrelated to Defence, Charms, Transfiguration, or the Killing Curse to get my mind to relax, but what?

“I didn’t have anything in my trunk for recreational reading. I arose from bed, pulled on my Invisibility Cloak, and headed for the library. On my way I remembered something Ron had said about the Muggle fairy tale Cinderella being based on a true story in the Wizarding world. I wondered if any of the other fairy tales I had heard growing up were also just retellings of magical events. I had already looked through A History of Magic and found a little bit of information, but the author suggested another book, Magic in Muggle Literature , so I chose to borrow that book and returned to the common room and curled up with it. Hermione, you would have been proud.”

He ignored her eye roll as he continued. “It turns out many of the fairy tales were indeed based on true magical stories. For instance, Snow White obviously ate an apple poisoned with the Draught of Living Death. However, she was not revived by just the kiss of Prince Charming. In actuality, the prince put Wiggenweld Potion, the antidote to the Draught of Living Death, on his lips before kissing her. Of course, he didn’t have to kiss her to administer the antidote, but it did make for a romantic story. Some experts think it was just a ploy to seduce her, making her think that it was his kiss that saved her.

“Since we had seen Sleeping Beauty over break, I looked up the truth behind it as well. Her case is a little more controversial. The experts agreed that it couldn’t have been the Draught of Living Death, because a drop of it administered through a puncture wound would cause actual death, but there is disagreement as to what potion was used. The next few pages were filled with arguments for this potion or that potion. It had the effect I was looking for; it was putting me to sleep. But before I nodded off for good, something caught my eye for two reasons. The first was that one author suggested that the princess and prince on which Sleeping Beauty was based were Soul Bound, but that was dismissed by most of the other experts, since many didn’t even believe that Soul Bonding occurs. The other reason was the name of the potion that he suggested was used: Plermuque mortuus .” A smirk broke out on Harry’s face.

Hermione put her hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh, but Ron and Ginny looked quizzically at Harry. “Why did that get your attention, Harry?” asked Ron. Hermione snorted and then started giggling, joined by Harry in a few seconds. “Care to share what is so funny, you two?” Ron added, obviously exasperated.

Harry gained control and said, “If you think about your Latin, Ron, the potion’s name translated is … ‘ Mostly dead .’” Harry broke out in laughter again, joined by Ginny and Ron this time, as well as Sirius, Aubrey, and Lydia.

Remus, Tonks, and older Weasleys just looked at the teens and themselves with puzzled looks. When the uproar had died down, Remus asked, “What are we missing here? We don’t get the joke.”

Ginny took a deep breath, steadied herself, and then explained, “One of the movies we watched over the Easter holiday was called The Princess Bride . It was one of Harry’s favourites growing up. Anyway, the hero, Westley, is caught by the evil prince and tortured to death. His friends bring him to an old man who was known for being able to do miracles to see if there is anything he can do. He was aptly named Miracle Max. Max then tells the friends that Westley is not in fact dead, but just ‘mostly dead’, and is able to revive him. And then Westley, with the help of his friends, storms the castle, saves the princess before she marries the evil prince, and they ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after.”

Molly asked, “And this is funny?”

Ron added, “I think you need to see the movie, Mum, to appreciate it.” Ron stood up, brandishing his wand like a sword at Sirius and said, “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!” causing Sirius and the teens to start laughing all over again while the other adults just stared.

“You just had to be there, Remus,” Sirius said as he put his arm around Remus’ shoulder.

“Where have I heard that one before?” asked Remus, rolling his eyes.

After everyone had calmed down, Harry continued. “This potion, Plermuque mortuus , is a very dark potion, used in the Middle Ages. When introduced through a skin puncture, it causes a condition that physically mimics death, with no breathing or heartbeat, but the body is not dead. Sort of like suspended animation.” The Muggle-raised nodded understanding at this explanation.

“The other odd thing about this potion is that it actually protects the body from further damage; it doesn’t decay, and, if cremation is attempted, the body isn’t burned. There is no known antidote but, if the victim is Soul Bonded, a kiss from his or her love will reverse effects. I thought, This could be the answer! But other authors stated that the potion didn’t even exist, so I wasn’t sure.

“The next night, I snuck to the library again and borrowed Moste Potente Potions to see what it had to say. I learned that everything in the Muggles Lit book about it was actually correct, and that there was one instance of a person under its effects who survived the Avada Kedavra . It’s not exactly a convenient way to survive the Killing Curse, since you need to be under its effects before you are hit with the curse, so it seems to have been forgotten as a way to survive it.

“Fortunately, if you have the ingredients, it is fairly easy to brew, so I borrowed what I needed from Slughorn’s stash and brewed it in the Room of Requirement.”

“But Harry, you have never taken Potions. How did you know how to brew it?” asked Hermione.

“Slughorn did teach me a few Potions fundamentals over the summer and, really, Hermione, potions are not that much different from labs in Chemistry class; you just have to be careful to follow the directions exactly. And the directions in Moste Potente Potions are pretty thorough, as you must remember from second year.” Hermione blushed as most people were unaware of Hermione and Ron brewing Polyjuice Potion to try to figure out who the Heir of Slytherin was. Harry had heard the story late one night from Ron as he was telling Harry about their adventures together. Some of the adults narrowed their eyes a little, but Harry continued. “It went just as the book described and the final potion was a light pink solution that could be placed on a sharp object. It dries clear without any residue. I put the tip of a needle in it, and kept it in my pocket for several days until Voldemort showed up and kidnapped Ginny. When I went to him to save her, at the last moment, when I looked like I was giving up, I put my hand in my pocket, and stabbed myself in the finger just as he started the incantation. I heard “ Av …” and then everything went black until I awoke to those wondrous lips kissing me.”

“Enough of that. She is our sister after all,” said Fred.

“Harry, why didn’t you share your plan with any of us? Surely you trust us,” asked Hermione.

“I trust you with my life, literally, which is why I trusted you to figure out the clues in my will. But I knew that to fool Voldemort, no one else could know what I was doing. In particular, I knew that he would try Legilimency on Ginny, and perhaps you or Ron as well. He can tell if someone is lying or acting pretty easily unless the person is very skilled in Occlumency. He did try didn’t he, Gin? I saw him stare at you for a few moments while he was trying to figure out if I was playing a trick.”

“Yes, he did. I could tell that he was able to see my dread that you were going to die.”

“I am really sorry for putting you through all that, but I didn’t see any other way to allow what Hermione saw to occur and for me to survive.

“But now,” he said with a cheeky grin, “we have the upper hand, because Voldemort has no idea that I am alive, and, if we can just figure out how the ‘power that he knows not’ can help us defeat him, then we can surprise him and take him down.”

Hermione’s face lit up and started to literally hop in her chair. “I did find it, Harry! I found the spell that you and Ginny can do to defeat him in the Department of Mysteries library!” She turned her face down as she was blushing and added in a low voice, “But you will need to do some things to be able to use the spell properly.”

“We can talk about that in the morning,” said Molly. “It is really late and all of you look exhausted. I think it is bedtime for everyone.”

“Harry, can we go into the sitting room? I want to talk to you alone for a moment,” asked Ginny.

They walked into the next room, closed the door, and Ginny promptly hit Harry in the stomach, causing him to double over.

Harry stood up, holding his abdomen. “I guess I deserved that,” he wheezed out.

Ginny with obvious rage on her face, said quietly and forcefully at the same time, pointing her wand in his face, “If you ever put me through something like that again, Merlin help me, I may use Avada Kedavra on you myself.” Tears started to stream down her face as she sat down on a sofa, pulling him down next to her.

“Harry, you don’t know what your death did to me. My life was over, as far as I was concerned. I know you told me that you had a plan, to trust you, but, when I saw you fall, and was holding your lifeless body in my arms, I lost all hope.”

“Believe me, Gin, the only reason that I doubted my plan was what it was going to do to you. When I saw your face at the last moment before he shot that spell, I almost didn’t go through with it, but by then, it was too late. I knew it was the only way to come back to you.”

They held each other for a few more minutes before Harry said, “We need to get to bed. I assume I am staying with Ron. Which room is his?”

“Actually, if it’s okay with you, I’d rather you stay with me.”

“I would love to spend the night with you, but wouldn’t your parents frown upon that? I know they are happy to see me back, but I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

“I think they would be alright with it. While you were gone, I had a lot of talks with Mum, especially about our relationship. One day we talked about our physical relationship and how far we had gone. She told me that she and Dad hadn’t waited until they were married, which was a little awkward, but she was trying to open up to me so I would know I could share whatever with her. She didn’t know about the limitations concerning our Soul Bond that we couldn’t make love until after we are married, so she was actually surprised that we hadn’t yet. She knows that Ron and Hermione have; just don’t tell them that. And, believe it or not, she seemed sad that we hadn’t had a chance to make love, that my true love had died before we had a chance to share the ultimate expression of that love. I even told her about your willpower when Pansy threw herself at you when disguised at me. She was impressed at you, saying that you were a special young man to be able to not give in at such a moment. So, I think she understands our need to be together, and, since they know that we won’t do anything to sever the Bond, I don’t think they will be upset. Hermione and Ron, however, may get jealous, since my parents have been watching them pretty closely, even though they are engaged.”

“They’re engaged? Boy, a guy goes and dies and misses all sorts of stuff. First, Sirius and Aubrey, and now Ron and Hermione. I’ll have to congratulate them in the morning.”

“Yes, definitely in the morning,” Ginny almost purred, as she snuggled under Harry’s arm on their way to her room.

Back to index


Chapter 41: Aufero Malum

Author's Notes: Sorry for the slight delay in posting. This chapter is pivotal to the plot of the rest of the story and I wanted to make sure it was just right. Thanks to Arnel for her beta work, especially with the verse in this chapter. I really didn't like my original version, but I could not put into words why I didn't like it and what I was looking for. Despite my vague request, she produced exactly what I was picturing. She really is amazing!


Aufero Malum

During breakfast the next morning, after congratulating his two best friends on their engagement, everyone filled Harry on what had been going on since his “death.” As they finished eating, Lydia came in, rubbing her eyes.

“Still not quite awake yet, Lydia?” teased Harry.

“Sod off, Potter. You know I’m not a morning person, at least until I’ve had my tea.”

Harry arose, poured her a mug of tea and placed it in front of her. She held the mug in both hands and inhaled deeply. “Bless you, Harry,” she said as she took her first sip.

After giving her a chance for a few more sips, Harry asked, “So, Lydia, how is living here with Sirius? Are you getting along alright?”

“It’s been fine. Neither one of us has been in a great mood, with your death and all, but we’ve had a lot of work to do around here, so that’s taken our minds off of it. He’s been really insistent on asking my opinions on how to redecorate, but it was slow going at first. But, the last two weeks, we’ve made a lot more progress.”

“What changed?” asked Harry.

“Kreacher.”

“Who or what is ‘Kreacher’?”

“He’s the Black family house-elf. When I first arrived, Kreacher was always in a foul mood, complaining about us being there and ‘sullying the Black Family house’. Sirius and Kreacher were constantly arguing, and it seemed anything that Sirius ordered him to do, Kreacher would find some way around it, or some way to do it poorly. He always obeyed in the strict meaning of Sirius’ command, but never exactly what Sirius intended. Sirius ended up yelling at him and then having to redo everything. It felt like we were making no progress.”

“But Kreacher has been perfectly nice since we arrived,” said Hermione, her brow furrowed. Everyone knew how she felt about the mistreatment of house-elves. “He’s been very helpful.”

“Now he is,” replied Lydia. “I saw that we weren’t getting anywhere with Kreacher’s ‘help,’ so I decided to take a different approach. When Sirius would leave the room in a huff, I asked Kreacher about his mistress, Mrs Black, who he seemed to almost worship. I discovered that the current décor, which I like to call ‘Gloomy Serpentine,’ was a relatively recent change. It seems that early in her married life, the house was much brighter and more colourful. It was only after she and her husband began dabbling in the Dark Arts that the dark and snaky motif appeared.

“I also learned that during this phase of her life, she became angrier and bitter and that she was much happier when the décor was brighter. So, I asked him if he thought his mistress’ memory would be better honoured if we restored the house to its former glory. This idea changed his whole outlook and he’s been much easier to work with. I also started asking Kreacher to do tasks, instead of ordering him to do them, like Sirius does, which made a huge difference as well.”

Hermione’s face brightened significantly at Lydia’s story. “While I still don’t agree with using house-elves, it is nice that you were able to find a way to make him happier. Thank you, Lydia, for your kindness.”

Lydia reddened and said quietly, “It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

When Lydia finished her breakfast, the five teens went into the dining room to get out of Mrs Weasley’s way, since she wanted to clean up. “So, Hermione,” said Harry, “tell us about this spell you found that can defeat Voldemort.”

“I’d prefer to wait for Professor McGonagall to arrive. She has some additional information that will help explain it. She is going to be thrilled when she learns you are back. We haven’t told her that you are alive yet, because we didn’t want to risk the information getting in the wrong hands; we did send her an owl last night asking her to come here this morning on Order business, so she should be here shortly.”

As if on cue, the door opened, and in strolled the new head of the Order. As she walked down the hallway past the doorway to the dining room, Harry said, “Good morning, Professor!” The headmistress turned quickly, greeting the teens, and then continued down the hall toward the stairs. The teens could hear her footfalls start to climb the steps, but then they stopped. A few seconds later the footsteps were quickly returning toward the dining room and Professor McGonagall appeared at the entrance, her eyes narrowed and her wand pointed directly at Harry’s chest.

“Who are you? Harry Potter is dead. What is your game?”

“It’s really me, Professor,” replied Harry with a smile as he stood up, his arms raised in surrender. “Ask me something that only I would know.”

She thought for a moment and then asked, “When I first met you, what did I use as a Portkey to transport us to Hogwarts?”

“A snow globe. I think it showed London Bridge, if I remember correctly.”

She dropped her wand and stared at Harry for a moment. Then, in an uncharacteristic show of emotion, the headmistress rushed over and hugged Harry. “But how? No one can survive Avada Kedavra ?”

Harry grinned and said, “I guess that isn’t quite true, since I’ve survived it twice now.” They sat down and Harry told his story again, answering all of the professor’s questions.

“One more question,” said Professor McGonagall. “We tried to contact your friends in the States about your death, but we couldn’t. Did you have anything to do with that?”

“Yeah, I severed the connection between the Owl Posts and the Muggle Post Office, so nothing could get to them. I didn’t want my friends to learn that I was ‘dead,’ and then have to explain that I was now alive. It’s hard enough to explain it with magic, but to them, it would be nearly impossible.”

“Mr Potter,” she began before restarting. “Harry, I can’t believe you were able to manage all of that,” Addressing the whole group, “I agree with your idea that it is important to keep this a secret, especially from Voldemort. I think that we should even keep this a secret from the rest of the Order. The fewer people who know the less likely it is to get out. We’ll have to find somewhere for you to hide.” She turned to Ron and Ginny. “Do you know if Bill has finished re-warding the Burrow?”

“I think he finished yesterday, other than completing the Fidelius,” said Ron. “We just need to pick the Secret Keeper.”

“Has Miss Granger discussed the spell she found and the necessary preparations for it?” asked the Professor.

“I was waiting for you to arrive, Professor. Perhaps we should have Arthur, Molly, and Sirius come in for this? It’s important that they hear this too.”

“That is a good idea. Ron, could you go get your parents and Sirius for us?”

Harry and Ginny looked at each other quizzically and then Ginny asked, “Hermione, why is it important for my parents to hear about the spell?”

“Be patient, Ginny. This involves them, too. You’ll understand in just a minute.”

Ron returned with his parents and Sirius a few moments later, and they looked as confused as Harry and Ginny. After everyone sat down, the headmistress waved her wand, casting a Silencing Charm on the room before starting, “Sirius, Arthur, and Molly, thank you for coming. With Harry’s return, it is not surprising that this changes our plans for the war, but there is one particular alteration that affects you specifically and directly. Miss Granger found a spell that we agree is probably the key to our victory, and the spell is one that can be best done by Harry and Ginny together, but they need your help.”

The faces of the three newcomers showed even more confusion, as did Harry’s and Ginny’s. “Miss Granger, since you found the spell, please explain what you learned.”

Hermione sat up straight and cleared her throat. “I originally came across the spell this spring, but I didn’t understand it when I first read it because I was mistranslating part of the description. The name of the spell is Aufero Malum. It was first designed to be able to remove dark magic from dangerous artefacts. The book then said its most important use was to destroy ‘endless bone’. I had no idea what that meant, so I skipped to the next spell, not bothering to translate the rest of the information on it. After all, why would destroying bone be helpful?

“A few weeks ago, when I was investigating why Ginny wasn’t weakening after your death, I found the spell again. When I studied it further, I saw where I had made my mistake. The rune that I had translated as ‘bone’ was actually a proper name, not a noun.”

Hermione’s face became more animated as she was obviously more excited. “Now, this is where it gets interesting. I started searching the library in the Department of Mysteries for wizards with a name that meant ‘bone.’ I had to use multiple translation spells to find as many words as I could that could be translated ‘bone’ and then I cross referenced it with names in various magical history texts…”

“Hermione, love,” interrupted Ron. “While I am sure it is interesting how you found the information, I’m not sure we need all the details. Based on the glazed look on a few people here, I think you’re losing your audience. Perhaps you should just tell us what you actually did find.”

Hermione reddened. “Sorry, I forget that you’re not all Department of Mystery workers. My colleagues would be fascinated on the process as well as the conclusion. Anyway, the Polish word for ‘bone’ is ‘kosc’. In the sixteenth century, there was a Slavic evil sorcerer named Koschei the Deathless who was wreaking havoc throughout Eastern Europe. Do you see the connection? His name comes from the Polish word for ‘bone’ and ‘endless’ could also mean immortal, undying, or ‘Deathless.’” A large smile broke out on her face. “I had a feeling that this might be what we were looking for. He had been defeated a few times, and his body was even destroyed, but he kept coming back to life and couldn’t be killed.”

“That seems strangely familiar,” Harry mumbled, making everyone nod their heads in agreement. Looking at Hermione, he then asked, “How did this Koschei do that? A spell like the one my mother used on me?”

Hermione shook her head as she took up her narrative again. “The reason he couldn’t be killed was that he had placed part of his soul in an object.” She stopped when nearly every eyebrow in the room rose towards the ceiling. With a small smile, she continued, “Believe it or not, there are a lot of myths about him in Muggle literature and according to the tales the soul was placed in a needle, which was hidden in an egg, which was placed in a duck, which was hidden in a hare, which was confined in a chest, which was chained to an oak tree. It was only when the egg with the needle was destroyed that he could be killed, with the hero always finding a way to destroy this egg. It turns out that the myths were based on the real wizard, but that the complicated hiding of the needle was literary fiction. In the Polish magical history book, it said he was defeated by an unnamed couple who used an unknown spell first on the needle to remove his soul from it and then they used the spell again on him. The history book didn’t know exactly what the spell did to Koschei, only that he was destroyed by it.

“I then reread the chapter in The Bright Arts on known Soul Bound couples and found Ivan and Marya Morevna, a Russian couple who lived at the same time as Koschei. It mentions that they defeated the greatest Dark wizard of their time. I put all the clues together and determined that Aufero Malum must have been the spell they used. So, I went back and studied the spell more thoroughly. It removes the dark magic from objects, and on a human, it removes all the evil from the essence of the person. The book says that the more evil a person, the worse the damage, and surmises that, in the case of a Dark Lord, since his essence would be almost all evil, it would totally destroy him.

“You can see why this excited me. After I discovered this, I took it to Professor McGonagall.”

Professor McGonagall then took up the story. “Before his death, Professor Dumbledore had sent various members of the Order to the Continent to try to gain more information on a former Hogwarts student named Tom Riddle. He was particularly interested in the years between Riddle leaving Hogwarts and when he reappeared as Voldemort, and to hopefully learn what magic he used to survive the Killing Curse.”

Harry muttered, “That’s what Professor Dumbledore must have meant with his last words.”

All eyes turned toward Harry. “What was that, Harry?” asked Sirius.

Harry fought back tears as he remembered the death of his headmaster as if it was yesterday, since, to Harry, it was yesterday. “Before he died, he said, ‘The answer is Riddle. Study him.’ He must have known that the information that the Order had learned would be important.”

Professor McGonagall continued. “What they have learned is that he spent several years in Albania studying Dark magic. There are stories of a mysterious castle in the mountains of Albania, built by a Dark wizard centuries ago. Anyone who dared to enter it was said to meet a most gruesome death. It was destroyed in what was thought to be an earthquake in 1949. We now believe that Voldemort discovered the castle and figured out how to enter it. We also know that Albania was part of the territory over which Koschei reigned. Putting this together with what Miss Granger has learned, we think that the castle was Koschei’s and Voldemort learned how to transfer a part of his soul to an object. After he was done, he demolished the castle so that no one could learn his secret.”

“So,” added Hermione, “now that Harry is alive, we have some tasks ahead of us. First, we need to figure out what object Voldemort placed the piece of his soul in and then find it. Second, we need … well, to make some other plans.” Hermione turned red.

“What about learning Aufero Malum?” asked Ginny.

“There are some things that you need to do first before you can learn the spell,” said Hermione, obviously uncomfortable.

“What things, Hermione?” asked Harry.

Hermione turned even redder, looking back and forth between the adults present.

“Miss Granger, I think you should explain it and its special requirements,” said McGonagall.

Hermione gulped, “Are you sure, Professor? Perhaps this news might be better received from you?”

“No, Miss Granger, you have put so much effort into this, you should get the chance to present what you have learned.”

“Okay,” said Hermione nervously. She bent over and reached into her rucksack, removing a large book. She opened it, pulled out a parchment that was folded inside it, and began reading. “Here is my translation of the information on the spell from The Bright Arts.

“To cast the Aufero Malum spell

The bond fulfilled within two must dwell.

Strict observance of the ancient rites

As it is written, the cores unite,

While their two bodies cleave as one

A cord entwined their minds become.

Essence will coalesce,

Their power limitless.

Their hearts must be light

As the noontime sun is bright.

And like finest gold will be the souls

The two spirits precious as whitest snow.”

“What does all that mean?” asked Sirius.

“First, the bond must be brought to completion in a ceremony,” answered Hermione.

“What ceremony?” asked Molly, suspicion clouding her voice.

“Does this mean they have to get married?” asked Arthur.

“Yes, that is exactly what it means,” answered Hermione. “There is another section of the book that outlines the required ceremony, which is basically just a variation of the traditional Wizarding ceremony. However, there is one condition for the marriage to be binding and this is where you come in, Molly, Arthur, and Sirius. The couple must be married with the blessing of the parents of the couple, or in Harry’s case, his godfather.” She paused for the news to sink in to both couples.

Ginny responded first, “That’s no problem. So, how quickly can we put together a wedding?”

“Not so fast, young lady,” said Molly. “You are only sixteen! You’re not old enough to get married.”

“But Mum, I will be of age in less than two weeks,” Ginny protested.

Molly put her hands on her hips. “Just because it is legal for you to be married, it doesn’t mean you should. What about your schooling?”

“I did promise your parents we wouldn’t get married until you finished Hogwarts when I asked their blessing on their engagement,” said Harry.

Ginny turned to Harry, obviously hurt by his comment. “Don’t you want to get married?”

He took her hands in his and said, “Of course, I want to get married. There is nothing in this world that I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you, but it wouldn’t be right to go back on my word.” He pulled her into an embrace. “We need to do this the right way, Ginny.”

“I know, Harry,” she said. “It’s just hard to wait now that we have a purpose, a reason for getting married as soon as we can.”

“Minerva,” asked Molly, “could the wedding wait until after she finishes school?”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea. You’ve already seen what has happened in just the one month since Harry ‘died’ and the Ministry is collapsing. The Death Eater attacks are becoming bolder and bolder. Delaying another eleven months could be disastrous. I think a wedding in the near future so that they can start learning the spell as soon as possible would be best.”

“And just because we are married, doesn’t mean that I couldn’t keep going to school, would it, Professor?” asked Ginny.

“While it is irregular, we have had married students before and we can make accommodations for them,” said Professor McGonagall. “Those accommodations are more challenging when one of the couple is no longer attending, of course. However, since we want to keep the fact that Harry is alive a secret, I think it is probably essential that Ginny return to school as if nothing had happened. If she didn’t return, it might make some people suspicious.” Looking directly at Ginny, she smiled. “There is one piece of information that none of you are aware of that will make this easier. Miss Weasley, as the new Headmistress of Hogwarts, I am pleased to inform you that you have been appointed Head Girl for next year.”

Molly pulled her daughter into a hug. “Congratulations, dear! I’m so proud of you! That’s everyone in the family as either prefect or Head Boy or Girl!”

Fred and George, who were sitting next to each other, shared incredulous looks. “What are Fred and I, next door neighbours?” asked George, but the rest of the room ignored his comment.

Ginny, in shock, asked, “But, Professor, I wasn’t even a prefect. How can I be Head Girl?”

Professor McGonagall explained, “While the Head Girl and Boy are usually picked from the seventh year prefects, your performance this past year in classes and with the DA has shown your leadership. And it is not without precedent.” She turned toward Harry and added, “Mr Potter’s own father was never a prefect, but was Head Boy.”

“Okay, I’m Head Girl. But how does this make keeping Harry’s return a secret easier?” Ginny asked, still confused.

“There is a little known provision that Head Boy and Girl have the choice to either stay in their dorms with their classmates or live in a special suite with a private bedroom and bath. In recent years, this privilege has not been taken advantage of, but it is available to you. So, Miss Weasley, if you live in the suite, it will be easier to conceal Mr Potter’s existence.”

Ginny and Harry looked at each other with smiles. “That would be nice,” whispered Harry, “having our own space.”

“What do you think, Molly?” asked Arthur. “Are you okay with this?”

Molly sighed. “This is not how I pictured my only daughter’s wedding. Since she was born, I’ve dreamed about what her wedding would be like, and I had even started collecting some ideas when they were engaged. Frankly, I was planning on occupying a lot of Ginny’s summer with wedding business. Obviously, we aren’t going to be able to have the kind of ceremony I imagined. But, yes, I guess I can give my blessing.”

Ginny arose and hugged her mum. “Thank you, Mum. I know that the ceremony might not be what you wanted, but that’s not what is most important. What is important is that I am marrying the right man, and even you know that Harry is that man.”

“Yes, he is that, dear,” squeezing her daughter tightly, as they both started to tear up.

“How about you, Sirius? Can you give your blessing as well?” asked McGonagall.

Sirius smirked. “Of course, I give my blessing. Harry’s the same age as his father and Ginny’s just a few months younger than Lily when they were married right out of school, so I don’t think age should be an issue. My time with Harry and Ginny this spring confirmed for me that they definitely were made for each other. I have no issues.”

Arthur stood up in the silence following Sirius’ speech. “If you think that this is the best course, Minerva, then, I am going to repeat Ginny’s question. Molly, how quickly can we put together a wedding?”

Molly pulled a handkerchief out of her apron and wiped at her tears. “Since it obviously will need to be a small ceremony to keep Harry’s secret, I think we could probably do it in two weeks. How does the Saturday after Ginny turns seventeen sound?”

Ginny turned toward Harry and grabbed his hands. “What do you think? Is two weeks okay with you?”

He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers. “Sounds like I’ve just received the best birthday present ever.” And too low for anyone else to hear, he whispered, “It also gives us time for a honeymoon before you have to go back to school.” She giggled and he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her passionately, despite sounds of disapproval from Ron. Then before they knew it, the rest of the room had stood and was hugging and slapping the backs of the happy couple.

When the celebration had died down a little, Ron interjected, “Hermione, that explains the first part. The next line talks about cleaving? What does that mean?”

Hermione gulped again and reddened. “Oh, Ron, that will take care of itself,” she said, looking down at her feet.

“I don’t get it.” Sirius had a twinkle in his eyes and was trying hard to stifle a chuckle.

“Come on, Ron, think,” added George.

“What am I missing?” asked Ron. Both of the twins were also having difficulty hiding their mirth.

“Ronald, we already talked about this, remember? Please don’t make me talk about this in front of your parents and the headmistress,” she said in a whispered tone.

“Huh?” queried Ron.

Professor McGonagall chuckled and said with a twinkle in her eye, “Mr Weasley, what Miss Granger is talking about is that cleaving is a Biblical term used to describe the ultimate gesture of love between a man and a woman.”

Ron still looked puzzled, but after a few more seconds, it was clear that he finally understood as he turned as red as his hair. “Oh. I guess that will take care of itself.” Sirius and the twins could no longer hold back their laughter.

Harry, anxious to be done talking about that topic in the company of his in-laws-to-be, took the parchment from Hermione and changed the subject. “What about the next part here? ‘A cord entwined their minds become.’ What does that mean?”

Hermione smiled as she explained. “The rest of the verse describes some of the effects of the Bond. The ‘entwined minds’ signifies a strengthening of your ability to communicate with each other. You’ve felt each other’s emotions before and, at periods of extreme stress, you’ve even been able to send a message telepathically. Now, you’ll be able to do it with little effort.”

“And obviously the next part, ‘Essence will coalesce, their power limitless’ refers to the strength of our magic,” said Ginny, peeking over Harry’s shoulder.

“Right,” said Hermione. “Currently, you need to be touching to increase your magical power, but after the Bond is completed, you will have amplified power all of the time.”

“That will come in handy when we have to battle Tom,” said Harry, squeezing Ginny’s hand.

“The next lines indicate that Soul Bonds can only occur between couples who support the Light,” explained Hermione. “People who embrace the Dark Arts cannot feel the true love necessary for a Soul Bond. The last two lines state that the Bondmates will treasure their Bond above all else.”

The room was silent for a moment as everyone considered the gravity of the situation.

Sirius suddenly jumped up, clapping his hands. “What are we waiting for? We’ve a wedding to plan! What do we need to do first, Molly?”

A/N: When thinking about how to continue with this story, I decided to not do another Horcrux search story. There have been plenty of those written, and, quite frankly, my story is long enough without extending it by having to find six Horcruxes (or I guess five since the diary is already destroyed). However, I still needed to find a way to explain how Tom survived the rebounded Killing Curse, so I began researching Eastern European myths (remembering his time in Albania) and found the story of Koschei and the hiding of a part of his soul in an object. I don’t know if JKR got her idea for Horcruxes from this or not, but it certainly is similar. The fact that ‘Koschei’ derives from the Polish word for ‘bone,’ as Hermione explains, suggests that Koschei had a skeletal appearance. Doesn’t sound like any villain that we are familiar with, does it?

I thought that the Koschei myth would allow me to have a “Horcrux-like substance” that explained Tom’s survival without a prolonged search. I was also a little proud of the fact that I had found something that would be an original spin on canon. Of course, not long after I started plotting the next several chapters, I found another fan fiction that mentions the Koschei story (I am sorry, I don’t remember which story it is at the moment), which brought my ego back to earth. ;)

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Chapter 42: Planning and Searching

Planning and Searching

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. The Weasleys moved back to the Burrow with Harry, after Bill cast the Fidelius Charm with Fleur as Secret Keeper, so as few members of the Order would see that he was indeed alive. Not surprisingly, Harry did not see much of Ginny, as she was with her mum most of the time with all of the wedding plans. Fortunately, since Bill and Fleur had been married at the Burrow the summer before, they still had much of what they needed to put the wedding together in such a short time.

One day while they were working on plans, Ginny noticed that her mum was sniffing. “What’s wrong, Mum?”

“I’m sorry, Ginny. It’s just that I’ve been dreaming of the day my only daughter would get married almost from the day you were born, and we can’t give you everything that you deserve. I always pictured a huge storybook wedding.” She leaned in closer to Ginny and lowered her voice. “Don’t tell Fleur this, but when we were planning their wedding, I kept back a few of my best ideas so that we could use them for yours,” she said with a wink.

Ginny was touched. “Mum, I don’t need much. The important thing is who I’m marrying, not what decorations we have or how many people can come.”

Her mum nodded and blew her nose. “I know, dear. Sometimes it’s hard to let go of your dreams, though. I always had this picture of us shopping for your gown together and finding something that would make you look like a princess. I don’t know what we’re going to use now. We can’t exactly go bridal shopping without raising questions we don’t want to answer.” She sighed. “I guess we could ask Fleur if we could alter hers.”

“Mum, I don’t want to wear Fleur’s dress. I’ve always hoped I could wear yours.”

Mum’s eyes grew wide. “Mine? Why would you want to wear that old thing? It isn’t very fancy. We couldn't afford much and it was such a small ceremony since your father and I eloped. Fleur’s was so much more elegant.”

“I don’t want anything as elaborate as Fleur’s. I know this is hard to believe, but my dreams of my wedding always included me in your dress. You look so beautiful in your wedding pictures. And your dress is classically sophisticated, even if it wasn’t expensive.”

“You’re just saying that, Ginny, to make me feel better.”

“I’m not; let me prove it to you.” She jumped up and ran up the stairs to her room. After a few moments she came back with a piece of parchment, which she handed to her mother. “I drew this when I was about eight or nine, I think, and I’ve kept it in my hope chest since.”

Molly looked at the picture and her eyes moistened. There was a picture of a bride and groom standing holding hands. It was obviously drawn by a child, but the redheaded bride was wearing a gown that was off the shoulder, with a tight bodice and an A-line skirt. It was identical to the dress she herself had worn.

She then looked to the groom, who had messy black hair and was wearing black dress robes. “I knew you dreamed of marrying Harry Potter when you were a pre-schooler, but I didn’t realize that you didn’t give up on that dream when you were older, Ginny. This looks just like Harry, other than the glasses.”

“I remember thinking that he would probably grow up to look like his father, and I dreamed that he would be my knight in shining armour, coming to my rescue on a white horse before sweeping me off my feet and asking me to marry him.” She smiled before continuing. “While I’ve never seen him on a white horse or in armour, everything else has happened just like I dreamed it would.” She put her hand on her mum’s arm. “Don’t you see, Mum; this is my dream wedding, regardless of how big or elaborate it is.”

Molly wiped her eyes and blew her nose again before saying, “I guess we better get up in the attic and get that dress out. It might take a little altering, but your figure isn’t that much different than mine was before six pregnancies.”

Finding dress robes for Harry wasn’t as easy. None of Ginny’s brothers were close enough to him in build for him to wear their robes from last summer. And besides, what would they wear to the wedding themselves? It was decided that Harry would need to go shopping in Hogsmeade to find just the right robes, and the twins knew exactly how to pull it off.

“Our best friend from Hogwarts, Lee Jordan, has a cousin named Mike, who is getting married in September,” said Fred.

“‘Michael,’” corrected George. “Remember his fiancée wants him called ‘Michael’ now. Supposedly makes him sound more mature.”

“You’re right, but for some reason, I can never remember that when she is around,” he said with a grin. “Anyway, we will disguise you as ‘Michael’ and you can go to Gladrags in Hogsmeade to be fitted. The real groom already bought his wedding robes at Madam Malkin’s, so you can’t go there, but the salespeople at Gladrags won’t know that. They will remember Mike from his time at Hogwarts; he was a few years ahead of us in Ravenclaw.”

The twins placed a few glamour charms on him so that he had mocha coloured skin, brown eyes, dreadlocks, and, most importantly, no scar on his forehead. “Voila,” said George. “You look just like Michael Jordan.”

Harry looked at himself in the mirror and suppressed a laugh. “No, to pass as Michael Jordan I would have to be at least half a foot taller and shave my head.”

“What are you on about, Harry? You look just like him,” said Fred.

Harry chuckled. “I’m sorry; haven’t you guys ever heard of the basketball player Michael Jordan?” At the blank looks on the twins’ faces, he continued. “The most famous athlete in the world? Five NBA championships? Maybe six by now; I haven’t kept up with American sports recently. Member of ‘The Dream Team’? Best-selling athletic shoe in history?” Still seeing no response, he shook his head and muttered, “I guess if he doesn’t play Quidditch, the Wizarding world doesn’t care about it.”

“We’ve never heard of him, but I’m sure he’s no Viktor Krum.” Harry rolled his eyes at George, dropping the subject.

Harry was accompanied to Gladrags by Tonks, who used her abilities to change herself into a good imitation of Michael’s fiancée. When they entered the store together and told the saleswitch their aim, she led them to the dressing rooms first for measuring. “Off with your robes, Michael,” the saleswitch said.

Tonks giggled a little and said, “Yes, Michael, off with your robes.”

Harry felt like he was bright red, but knew that with his current skin colour, his embarrassment wouldn’t be as obvious as usual. “What’s wrong, dear?” the saleswitch, who appeared to be in her sixties, asked. “Certainly your fiancée here has seen you in your drawers, hasn’t she?”

Harry glared at Tonks as she was obviously enjoying his uneasiness. “As a matter of fact, she hasn’t. We’re old-fashioned about that. Sabrina, dear, would you mind waiting out front? Please?” he said insistently.

“Alright, love,” Tonks answered with a smirk on her face. “Remember, though, it won’t be long until you have to show me everything you have underneath those robes.”

Harry was able leave with a new set of dress robes without any further embarrassment, at least until Tonks and he returned to the Burrow and she shared with the twins his discomfort.

“Come on, Harry. It’s not like Tonks hasn’t seen a lot more,” teased George.

“Yeah, I was a little disappointed,” added Tonks with a smirk. “I wanted to see if you truly were the ‘Chosen One,’” her eyebrows raising suggestively.

George put his arm around Fred before saying, “You know, Gred, it occurs to me that, perhaps our future brother-in-law is not very experienced in, how you say, knowing how to keep his future wife happy.”

“You’re probably right, Forge. I wonder if he’s ever had ‘the Talk.’ Should we ask Father to speak to you, Harry?”

“No, that’s not necessary,” said Harry, his face warming. “My dad gave me ‘the Talk’ several years ago.”

Fred’s smile grew, which worried Harry, knowing that this probably signalled trouble. “But that was probably just the basics. Maybe we should make sure he is educated properly. This is our favourite sister, after all, and we do want her to be… shall we say, satisfied.”

George turned to Tonks. “Maybe you can help our sister out, Tonks. Would you be willing to give Harry here some tips on how to please his witch?”

Tonks, a leering grin on her face, “Sure, I’d be happy to help. The hands-on lessons could be fun.” She walked over to him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and leaned in, whispering in his ear suggestively, “What do you say, Harry?”

Harry extricated himself from Tonks and said, “I think I’ll pass,” and he walked away, feeling like his face was as red as a lobster. As he left the room, he heard the trio break out in loud laughter. He leaned against the wall and took a deep breath to get himself under control. Then, as he thought about the situation and hearing the laughter, he thought, It is sort of funny, and found that he had to stifle a giggle himself before he went further up the stairs.

**********

A few days later, everyone was busy with wedding plans except for Hermione and Harry, who were in the sitting room together. “Hermione,” said Harry quietly, “I’m a little nervous about the wedding. Are Wizarding weddings any different from Muggle ones? Or for that matter, I don’t even know if British weddings are different from American weddings. I’d really like to have some idea on what is going to happen.”

“I don’t know much about American weddings, and I’ve only been to one Wizarding wedding, Bill and Fleur’s, but I have done a lot of research so I’ll tell you what I do know.”

Harry thought, Hermione doing research, what a surprise!

“There aren’t many differences between Muggle and Wizarding weddings, at least on the surface,” began Hermione. “There are attendants, walking down the aisle, rings, all the usual trappings. The vows are a little different, but I’ll give you those to memorize. The main alteration is that in Wizarding weddings, the bride and groom will each cast Lumos and touch their wands together, which is symbolic of merging their magic together, sort of like in Muggle weddings when the bride and groom light a unity candle.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief, recognizing he was on familiar territory.

“However, in your and Ginny’s case…” Harry leaned in as Hermione continued, paying closer attention, “to complete your Bonding, a special spell from The Bright Arts will be cast that is much more than symbolic. This spell actually reveals your magical auras and then merges your magic. There will have to be some precautions taken because of this spell, but I’ve already worked out those details, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

“What precautions?” asked Harry warily.

Hermione stood up and patted Harry on the shoulder. “I think that should be a surprise,” she said with a grin. “You’ll just have to wait and see,” and winked as she left the room.

**********

Four almost imperceptible pops disturbed the eerie quiet of the night. Four men, all dressed in black, looked around getting their bearings. Through the fog, Harry could see the outlines of tombstones a short distance away, giving him a chill, remembering the last time he had been in the Little Hangleton cemetery.

“Come on,” said Bill. “We need to get through the wards quickly so that we have as much time to search as possible.”

The quartet turned and walked in the direction that they knew the house was until it appeared out of the fog. Bill led the way, his wand out to detect any wards or traps that might be present, Sirius transformed into Padfoot, sniffing the ground for anything that human senses might miss. Remus brought up the rear, using his werewolf-enhanced hearing and smell in an attempt to notice anything the rest of the group overlooked.

As Harry followed, he remembered the conversation that began this adventure. The three older wizards had approached Harry that morning with a request. Professor McGonagall had given them the assignment to find the object in which Voldemort had placed the piece of his soul. She chose the two Marauders because of their uncanny ability to find all of the hidden passages and other secrets in Hogwarts, as well as hide things from the Hogwarts staff. She chose Bill because of his experience as a Curse Breaker for Gringotts and his knowledge on detecting and removing wards, curses, and traps. The three wizards had been spending most of their time reviewing Pensieve memories that Dumbledore had collected over the years that concerned Tom Riddle, attempting to better understand the Dark Lord and determine what object he may have used and where he would have hidden it. When they met with Harry that morning, they explained what they had learned and that they wanted to search Riddle’s Muggle father’s house as their first target. And they wanted Harry to join them.

Harry was excited to be able to do something more constructive than folding vol-au-vents, but was confused as to why they wanted him to come along.

“We think that your connection to Voldemort will enable you to detect whether there is a part of his soul nearby,” Bill explained. “After all, when Voldemort himself is close, it gives you a headache. We are hoping the same is true when you are in the proximity of a piece of him in his soul container.”

Harry was brought back to the present when he heard a surprised Bill say, “No wards that are currently active, but I can detect that there used to be, not that long ago,” said a surprised Bill.

As they neared the house, Sirius retransformed into a human and cast a spell that Harry didn’t hear. “No one, neither magical or Muggle, in the house currently.”

“What was that spell, Sirius?” asked Harry.

“Something I learned from Frank Longbottom when we were in the Order during the First War. He was an Auror before his injury and he taught us a lot of spells that were part of Auror training. It detects whether there are any people in a building and gives you the approximate location. Muggles will glow red while the Magical will glow blue. Very helpful to know what you might be up against before barging into a situation.”

They approached the front door and found it unlocked. Entering warily, they scanned the area for any dangers, but found nothing. Just inside the door, on the left were stairs that led to another floor and to the right was a short hallway. They proceeded down the hall and entered a large room. Remus and Sirius lit the tip of their wands, illuminating the room. As Harry looked around it, he stumbled as he recognized where he was.

“Harry, what is it? Do you sense something?” asked Remus.

“No,” Harry said as he shook his head. “Sorry. Last fall I had my first vision from Voldemort and this was the room I saw. He had a wizard who looked like me tortured and then killed when his blood was unable to bring Voldemort back to his body. It was just a shock for me to see it for real.”

They spent the rest of the night searching the house, but didn’t find anything that could help find their target. But they did find a dungeon with shackles on the walls, and the remains of three bodies, which they assumed were the three teen wizards the Death Eaters had kidnapped while trying to find Harry. When they finished their search, they made arrangements for the Aurors to come and collect the bodies so that they could be returned to their families.

**********

The next day, Harry found himself outside the Burrow, helping to de-gnome the garden to make it more presentable. He was deep in thought about how his life was going to change over the next few weeks. It wasn’t exactly like his life had been sedate and boring over the last fifteen months, but getting married and then chasing after Voldemort with his new wife was going to be very different than his life at Hogwarts. He had no doubts about whether Ginny was the right witch for him, but was he ready to be married? Will I be a good husband? Will we be able actually defeat the Dark Lord, or will this all be just a fool’s errand? The questions just kept coming at him, when he was startled by a light tap on his shoulder. As he turned, he pulled out his wand, and assumed a defensive posture, ready to fight.

“Whoa, settle down, Harry.” Harry squinted up into the sun and saw Arthur standing there with his hands up in surrender. “Sorry to startle you there.”

“And I’m sorry about my reaction. I was thinking about going after Voldemort and was just a little jumpy, I guess.”

“I’d say. But I’m happy to see you react like that; it gives me a little peace, knowing what you and my baby girl will be doing soon. Harry, let’s take a little walk and talk.”

“What about the garden? I don’t want Molly to get upset with me.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He put his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “I suspect that most of the chores the women give us are primarily given to keep us out of their hair. Let’s head out to my shed; we can talk privately there.”

When they arrived, Arthur indicated a folding chair for him to sit in. Harry suppressed a chortle as he surveyed the contents of the shed. The walls were covered with electrical cords, hubcaps, and various sized gears. There were boxes everywhere, filled with junk. In one next to his chair, Harry recognized an old typewriter with many of the keys removed and no platen. Arthur stood behind a work bench that was filled with plugs, batteries, wires, and other miscellaneous small items. On one end of the bench was a strange contraption that Harry decided must be an attempt to combine a blender and a boom box since a speaker was seated on top of the plastic pitcher where the lid normally would be.

Arthur was looking through the various items when he picked up a black ball. “Harry, I was wondering if you could tell me about this. It was found in a recent raid where we found some magical artefacts in the hands of Muggles. But this one confused us. It’s called the ‘Magic 8 Ball’ but none of us recognize it as a magical item, and can’t find any trace of magic on it. Do you know anything about it?”

Harry chuckled. “It’s a children’s toy and is definitely not magical. You are supposed to ask it a question, shake it up, and then it will give you an answer. Actually it just has a piece on the inside with multiple vague answers on it that floats in liquid and randomly gives an answer. Since the answers are vague, it gives the impression it can predict the future.”

“I see. Thanks, Harry.” Arthur fiddled with some other items on his bench. A couple of times he looked he was going to start to say something, but then stopped.

After a few minutes, Harry asked, “Did you want to talk to me about something other than a Muggle toy?”

Arthur sighed. “Yes, I did Harry, but I guess I’m a little nervous about it. Harry, I want you to know how much we appreciate what you have done for Ginny; I know you didn’t know her before you met her, but she’s different because of you and the love that you have shown her.”

“Ron told me about that. I can’t imagine her being reserved and shy like he says she was after her first year at Hogwarts.”

“Molly and I feel like we have our precious daughter back for the first time in many years. And when we thought you were dead, she was gone again. But now, she’s herself again. Thank you for that.”

Harry looked down at his hands in his lap, a little embarrassed. “You’re welcome, sir.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “Harry, I know that we aren’t your real parents, either your birth parents or the ones that raised you, and we don’t want to replace them. I know we can’t. But, I would be pleased if you would come to me, you know, for advice or such.” He swallowed before continuing. “I would be honoured to call you ‘Son’, if that’s all right. And you could call Molly and me, ‘Mum and Dad.’ But only if you want to,” he quickly added.

Harry’s vision blurred with tears as he was overwhelmed with the love and acceptance he received from his new family. Harry rose and walked over to Arthur and gave him a hug that rivalled any that Molly would give. “And I am honoured to be called Son by you, Dad.”

**********

Later that night, the four wizards were again walking down a lane bordered by seemingly endless hedgerows. They had been walking about fifteen minutes and Harry almost missed Remus and Bill slipping through a gap in the hedge due to the monotony. They were now on a narrow dirt path surrounded by even more tall bushes, but these had obviously not been tended for years and were much higher and wilder. It was a cloudless night, one day before the full moon, so there had been plenty of light, but as soon as they left the larger lane, it grew much darker. The two rows of shrubs were growing toward each other, giving Harry a claustrophobic feeling. The wind was also blowing, making the plants move back and forth randomly, and, more than once, caused him to turn quickly with his wand ready, even firing a Stunner once.

“Thanks for protecting us from those evil shrubberies, Harry,” teased Sirius. “Planning on bringing one to the Knights Who Say Ni?” he said with a wink. Harry walked on, his head down in embarrassment. Eventually, the path opened up and they could see a copse of trees across a small field. As they neared the trees, a broken-down shack appeared, hidden in between the tree trunks.

“There it is, the Gaunt house,” said Bill. The older wizards had explained to Harry that tonight’s mission was to search Tom’s mother’s family home, which was located not far from the Riddle house. The small dwelling was obviously abandoned, with broken glass in most of the windows and much of the roof gone, exposing rotting rafters everywhere.

“No wards here either,” said Bill as he waved his wand. “I can’t find any traces of magic, but our information suggests that no one has lived here since Riddle framed his last living relative, an uncle, for the murder of the Riddles in the Forties.”

As they approached the hovel, something could be seen hanging on the door. “Is that … “ started Harry.

“Yes, it does appear to be the skeleton of a snake. Remember that the members of this family were the last descendants of Salazar Slytherin. They were known Parselmouths, and practically worshipped snakes as part of their heritage,” explained Remus.

Bill used his wand to open the door, which almost fell off its hinges as it was pushed inward. As they walked in, the wizards all cast a Lumos, and Harry’s eyes adjusted to the light as he scanned the interior of the shell of a cottage. They were in a small main room that seemed to have been a combination sitting room and kitchen, as there was one filthy armchair and a grimy stove with a pot on it. Everything was covered in inches of dust, and it was obvious that the only recent inhabitants were animals that used the hovel as shelter.

“Do you sense anything, Harry?” asked Sirius.

“No pain in my scar, but I do detect some magic in the floorboards near that chair.”

“I had found that too,” said Bill. He walked over and knelt before the chair, waving his wand again, with a look of concentration on his face. He continued to pass his wand over the wooden planks, mumbling words that Harry couldn’t hear, and probably wouldn’t understand, even if he could hear them. Harry could see a greenish glow for a few seconds, which then turned a fuschia colour before disappearing with a crack. Bill stood back up, sweat obvious on his brow. “Wow, that was a nasty one. It should be safe now.”

Remus cast a controlled Severing Charm and the floor boards split open. He bent over and removed a small wooden box with a lock on it. A quick Alohomora later, the lid sprang open, revealing a tarnished gold ring adorned with a large black stone. He held the box toward Harry. “What do you think? Is part of Voldemort’s soul in this?”

Harry stepped nearer and tried to sense if there was any magic left on the ring. Then, his face went blank and he quickly reached for the ring and grabbed it. Before he could be stopped, Harry slipped it on his right ring finger. Bill yelled, “Harry, no!”

Shaking his head, Harry looked up at Bill. “What?”

Bill pointed at Harry’s hand. “The ring. We don’t know if it’s safe yet.”

Harry looked down at his hand with a look of confusion. “When did I put that on?”

“Perhaps you should take it off,” suggested Sirius. Harry did as he was told, and Sirius asked, “Do you feel alright?”

“I’m fine,” replied Harry.

Bill waved his wand around Harry and the ring. “I don’t detect any magic on the ring and no evidence of a curse on you, Harry. Are you sure you feel alright?”

“Yes, other than a momentary lapse of memory from the moment you asked me if the ring had a part of Voldemort’s soul until you yelled.”

“Do you have any idea why you put the ring on?” asked Remus.

“I’m not sure. For whatever reason, I felt a compulsion to put that ring on; I had this sense that it belonged to me and its rightful place was on my finger.”

**********

In honour of Ginny’s birthday, Molly had given the two of them a few hours off from wedding preparations, and they decided to go out to the pond on the outskirts of the property around the Burrow to cool off. After swimming some, they rested on conjured beach towels, letting the sun dry them.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t get you anything special for your birthday, Ginny.”

“That’s alright. I understand. It’s not like you can just stroll into Diagon Alley and get me something. And even if you could, we haven’t had the time. I’ll just think of the wedding night as a late birthday present, if that’s okay with you.”

Harry rolled over, opened his eyes, and looked at his beautiful fiancée while she lay with her eyes closed. She was wearing a black one piece suit that hugged all her curves, and even after all these months together, she still took his breath away. Ginny, sensing his feelings, teased, “Like what you see, Potter?”

“Very much.”

She noticed a change in the emotions that were coming through their Bond, but she wasn’t sure what exactly he was feeling. She opened her eyes, and turned on her side, propping herself up on her elbow. “What are you thinking about now? I feel something different than a few moments ago. Or should I not ask?” raising her eyebrow.

Harry smirked. “It’s not what you think. I was actually thinking about all of the other times I have been in this spot when I was dreaming of you. You spent a lot of time here during the summers, didn’t you?”

Ginny returned to her back, resting her head on her arms, and sighed. “Yeah, I did. It was a place I could get away from my brothers and put off doing chores. It’s a good place to just lie and think. I spent much of the summer after my first year here. Sometimes I would just float on my back in the pond and let the rest of the world just fade away.”

“I remember the peace you would feel here. It almost radiated off of you.” He rolled onto his back as well and closed his eyes again. After a few minutes of silence, he asked, “Gin, why aren’t you wearing your blue bikini? I like this suit, but, in that bikini… all I can say is ‘Wow!’”

Ginny gasped, “How did you know about that?” Harry lifted an eyebrow and she said, “Oh, of course, you saw me in your dreams.” A mischievous grin on her face, she said, “I don’t wear it often because my mum doesn’t even know I own it. She would be scandalized to see her daughter wearing that out in public.”

“I can just picture her reaction. So, that was a real vision and not my boyhood fantasies working overtime,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t sure. Well, make sure you pack it for our honeymoon.”

Her face lit up and she turned on her side again. “Where are we going? Come on, Harry, the suspense is killing me.” She crawled over to his towel and started kissing him on the neck. “Please, Harry, tell me.” Kiss. “I want to make sure …” Kiss. “I pack the right clothes.” Kiss. “You wouldn’t want me …” Kiss. “Not to have everything …” Kiss. “I need.”

Harry rolled out from underneath Ginny’s ministrations and walked toward the pond. “As much as I enjoy that, it won’t work. I’m not telling you; I want it to be a surprise.” He smirked and then dove into the water. If she keeps doing things like that, he thought, I’m going to have a tough time waiting for Saturday. Fortunately, the water was fed by a spring and stayed cold all summer, which came in handy after what Ginny had been doing to him.

**********

The day before the wedding, Molly was coming undone. The rest of the Weasleys and Harry were doing their best to help, but there was just too much to be done. While they were preparing serviettes, Harry whispered to Ginny, “How do you think Mum would react to a little more help?”

“What do you have in mind? I think the family is pitching in as much as we can.”

“I was thinking of a certain over-zealous house-elf,” he said with a smirk.

Ginny smiled. “I think that’s a great idea! She has never had that option in the past. I am pretty sure that she doesn’t have the same opinions as Hermione.”

“Let’s have a little fun,” suggested Harry, a mischievous grin on his face. “You call him.”

Ginny nodded in agreement. Harry hid behind Ginny and then she called, “Dobby!”

A crack of Apparation occurred and Dobby appeared before them. “Oh, it is you Miss Wheezy.” The house-elf seemed greyer than either of them remembered him looking and he had dark circles below his eyes. “Is there something Dobby can do for you? It is the least Dobby can do for the chosen one of the great Harry Potter, now that he is gone.” He bowed his head as he finished.

“Actually Dobby, it is something you could do for both of us,” said Harry as he came out from behind Ginny.

Dobby’s head snapped up, and, though it seemed impossible, the house-elf’s eyes grew even bigger as he saw Harry. “Harry Potter, sir! You is alive! It can’t be true!” And suddenly, a small projectile was flying at Harry’s knees, and had he not braced himself, he would have been knocked to the ground by the enthusiastic house-elf.

After a few moments, Harry was able to extricate himself from the blubbering Dobby’s death grip on his knees and assured him that he was indeed alive. He led the house-elf over to Molly and introduced them. “Dobby, Mrs Weasley here needs some help getting the house ready for a wedding. Can you assist her? I’m willing to pay you the same salary you receive from Hogwarts.”

Dobby was hopping in joy as he answered, “Anything for Harry Potter, sir! Who is getting married, may Dobby ask?”

“Ginny and I are, tomorrow. And we’d love it if you could come as a guest.”

Dobby hugged Harry’s knees again. “Oh, Harry Potter is too kind, inviting a lowly house-elf to the wedding of Harry Potter and his Wheezy! I will get right to work.” He turned to Molly and asked, “What can Dobby do for you, Mrs Wheezy?”

Molly stood thinking for a moment. “The house is a mess; I just haven’t had time to properly clean and dust it. And the sheets on all the beds need laundered. Could you please take care of those tasks?” she asked.

“Dobby is happy to! Dobby will get right to work!” With a pop, the house-elf was gone.

Molly let out a sigh, turned toward Harry, and said, “Thank you, Harry. I’m sure Dobby will be a big help. Perhaps I should supervise him a little, though.” She began walking toward the house, a new spring in her step.

“Anything I can do to relieve some of your stress, Mum,” responded Harry.

Molly spun, her mouth agape. “What did you just call me?”

Harry swallowed. “Mum,” he said quietly. He looked down at his trainers. “Arthur said it would be alright, but if you don’t …”

The rest of Harry’s sentence was cut off when he was engulfed by a hug. After a few moments in which Harry was concerned that he might pass out from lack of oxygen, Molly released him and grabbed his hands. “Of course it’s alright, dear. It just caught me by surprise.” She sniffed as she dropped his hands and said, “I really do need to get back to the house.” As she walked quickly away, Harry saw her pull a handkerchief from her apron and dab at her eyes.

Ginny came over, hooked her arm through his, and rested her head on his shoulder as the couple watched Molly leave. “Thanks, Harry,” was all she said, but Harry could feel the love Ginny felt for him surge through their Bond.

Back to index


Chapter 43: Unite My Being With Yours

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay in posting this, but real life got in the way. Thanks again to Arnel for her beta work; she had some wonderful suggestions to improve this chapter.


Unite My Being With Yours

Harry walked out to the marquee that had been erected for the wedding about 3 hours before the ceremony was due to start. He looked at the chairs that had been set up and gasped. Only twenty chairs were necessary to hold all of the guests. Guilt at what he was doing to Ginny’s ‘dream wedding’ threatened to overtake him. His head drooped and his shoulders sagged.

He then felt a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. It may not be the storybook wedding that most girls imagine, but remember she’s been fantasizing about marrying you since she was a toddler, and so this really is going to be a dream come true.” Harry was shocked at how easily Arthur had read his thoughts. “Come on, let’s get you ready.”

**********

Harry stood on the platform, Ron at his side, rocking from his heels to his toes, back and forth in nervous energy. Ron put a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, mate. She’ll be here in a moment.” Harry stopped rocking as he saw Molly escorted down the aisle by the twins, sitting in the first row on the bride’s side, already with handkerchief in hand and mascara starting to run. He then looked across the aisle to the groom’s side. In the first row were four portraits, James and Lily Potter and Mark and Angela Pelton. His eyes misted a little, wishing they could be here in person to witness his happiness on this day. In the second row sat Sirius and Aubrey and Remus and Tonks. It seemed fitting that his birth parents’ best friends be there as they were his only link to them. Lydia sat next to Sirius and occasionally they whispered back and forth. Harry’s heart was warmed that the two of them were getting along so well. She deserves someone to watch over her, he thought.

Harry’s attention was brought back to the processional when Ron let out a gasp behind him as Hermione appeared. “She’s beautiful,” he whispered.

“Just make sure you tell her that when you get the chance, Ron,” Harry said out of the side of his mouth.

A few moments later, it was Harry’s turn to gasp. Ginny arrived at the back of the tent, her arm entwined with her father’s, who was beaming. He had thought that she couldn’t look any more beautiful than the first time he met her on the train platform, but today she was a vision. She was wearing her mum’s wedding gown, he knew, but they had kept him away so he had not seen it until this moment. The fabric was white, simple, and unadorned with lace or other decoration, but it had a luster, sort of like a pearl. It didn’t quite glow, but it almost looked like it had its own light source. It was off the shoulder, exposing her neck and upper chest, with just a hint of cleavage, showing off the freckles that he loved to kiss so much. It had three-quarter length sleeves and a simple bodice, which fit her perfectly. The A-line skirt, which hung just below her knees, fluttered slightly as she walked down the aisle. Her hair, which seemed like it was fire the colour was so bright, was up, also emphasizing her neck, but a few tendrils curled on either side of her face. But it was her face that really drew his attention, as it reflected all of his feelings at the moment exactly. Her brown eyes were glued to his, mirroring his love for her right back at him. Her smile reflected the joy that was threatening to explode out of his chest. What did I do to deserve such a woman that I can share everything with? thought Harry. As they had rehearsed, as Ginny and her father approached the platform, Harry stepped down to join them.

The minister started the ceremony by asking, “Who gives this woman to this man in marriage?”

Arthur responded, “Her mother and I do.”

“And do you bless this union?”

“We do,” Mr and Mrs Weasley said in unison. At this, Mr Weasley kissed his daughter on the cheek, and sat down next to his wife.

“Who gives this man to this woman in marriage?”

“I, his godfather, do,” said Sirius, who had just stood.

“And do you bless this union?”

“I do.”

The couple turned to each other and joined hands before walking together up the steps to the minister. The minister then started talking, prattling on about marriage and love, but after a few moments, Harry couldn’t listen to him any longer as he gazed into Ginny’s eyes. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Mawwage, mawwage is what bwings us togevah today,” causing her to giggle and slap him playfully on the shoulder.

The minister, obviously not paying attention, continued on as if nothing had happened. After the minister was done with his mini-sermon, he looked at Harry and said, “The couple has decided to recite these traditional Celtic vows of their love for each other. Harry, you first.”

“Ginevra Molly, I pledge to love you, to care for you and comfort you for all of our days. I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care. I pledge to be a shield for your back and you for mine. I will not slander you, nor you me. I will adore, cherish, and honour you above all others. I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry out in the middle of the night, and yours will be the eyes I look into in the morning. I pledge to listen to you and grow to be a better person for you. I pledge to help you in your times of need and to be patient and considerate of you. These are my wedding vows to you. May they hold true until the end of our days.”

“Now you, Ginevra.”

Ginny repeated the vow Harry had just made, substituting his name for her own. At the end of her speech, she paused, squeezed his hand, and added, ”I love you, Harry James Potter, I always have and I always will.”

Harry responded, “I love you, too, Ginny, the girl of my dreams,” winking at her.

The minister then asked Ron and Hermione for the rings. “These gold bands that the bride and groom exchange are symbolic of their love. They are made from gold, the most precious of all metals, as their love is most precious to them. They are circular, with no beginning and no end, signifying that their love will continue forever. Harry, please place your ring on Ginevra’s hand and repeat after me.”

Harry took the ring from Ron and slid it onto Ginny’s left hand. “With this ring, I thee wed. Let it be a reminder that I am always by your side and that I will always be a faithful partner to you.” Harry repeated the vow and then Ginny did the same as she placed her ring on Harry’s hand.

“The final part of the ceremony is the bonding of the couple’s magic. At this time, I ask all of you to put on the spectacles that were handed out by the ushers as you were seated.” As everyone pulled out what looked like sunglasses and placed them on their faces, Hermione suppressed a chuckle, remembering the discussion concerning this part of the ceremony. Arthur had actually had several welding helmets in his garage, thinking they were Muggle storage bins. The glass from the helmets had been used to make the special light-blocking glasses for the ceremony.

“Before doing the uniting spell,” the minister continued, “the Maid of Honour asked me to explain that these glasses will diminish the intensity but not block the results of the spell and that, while you don’t have to wear them the rest of the evening, because if you did, it would be like having the reception in the dark without any light, it is recommended that any time you look at the bride and groom together, you wear them.” This prompted some whispering in the crowd, as they weren’t sure what to expect.

The minister then said “Fateor res,” tapping each of them on the top of the head. Harry felt a tingling travel over his whole body and when he looked at Ginny she was surrounded by a pale yellow radiance. Looking down, he saw that he was also enveloped by a similar glow. “Next,” the minister continued, “touch your wands together and repeat after me: Junctum meus res per vestri.” As they said this in unison, the yellow auras that surrounded them slowly travelled up their wands until they met at the tips. The two auras then combined into a white spark, like a small star, almost blinding in its intensity. Then the white glow travelled back down the wands and then Harry and Ginny felt the same tingling as before but stronger as it wrapped around them. The two gasped as the tingling grew until it felt like they were surrounded by static electricity. Occasionally little sparks would jump off of them, leaping for the other. In addition to this strange feeling, they could sense the other’s magic in a way that they couldn’t describe. It was as if they had a new sixth sense. As they dropped their wands and grasped hands together, it was like an electric shock travelled between them. It reminded them of the sensations when they first kissed, but with much more intensity.

Had they been paying attention, Harry and Ginny would have heard gasps of amazement and murmuring from the audience as the glow surrounding them became more and more intense as it gradually filled the whole marquee before it dissipated, but the couple was totally unaware of the rest of the world as they experienced this change in their magic.

After an indeterminate time, at least to Harry and Ginny, stimuli from the outside world began to penetrate their consciousness. They heard the minister say, “By the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” In a whispered voice and a knowing smile, the minister added for just Harry and Ginny’s ears, “Careful now.”

They looked at him quizzically for a second, but as they leaned in for the kiss, they understood. As their lips approached each other, the magic that surrounded them became even stronger. It was like two flames coming together, just barely touching at first, but as their lips met, the flames swirled around them, gathering them into a fiery tornado, which became stronger and stronger and seemed to be pushing them together with a force unlike any either had ever felt, and they couldn’t break it. At the same time, their hearts raced uncontrollably and it felt like they were going to burst out of their chests. They lost all sense of time and were completely unmindful of their surroundings. At that moment, it was just the two of them and the rest of the world didn’t even exist. It was only with great effort that they were able to pull their lips apart, and, when they did, they were awash with a sudden light-headedness and a feeling like all of the air had been squeezed out of their lungs. They grabbed each other’s arms as their knees became so weak that, had they not been holding on to each other, they would have fallen. They just stared at each other for a moment while they caught their breath before Ginny whispered breathlessly, “Wow!”

“Yeah, wow,” replied Harry between gasps.

As their breathing normalized and their hearts slowed, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and someone asking, “Alright there, mate?” Harry was confused for a moment and then gradually became aware of Ron trying to get his attention and the rest of the world came back to him. The ability to hear their surroundings returned slowly and the noise from the audience clapping and cheering progressively grew louder.

The minister whispered one more time, with a wink, “I warned you, didn’t I?” He directed them to turn and face the audience. “Wizards and witches, I have the honour of presenting to you for the first time, Mr and Mrs Harry Potter!” Ron pounded Harry on the back while Ginny turned and hugged Hermione. Then, Harry and Ginny grasped hands, turned toward the small crowd, and shakily walked back down the aisle, accepting hugs of congratulations from their friends and family.

When they had greeted all of their guests and reached the back of the marquee, they turned around and saw that the area had already been transformed. In the place of the altar, was the head table with two chairs for the bride and groom. There were also several small tables with four to six chairs around them for the other guests. To the left was a long buffet table, filled to overflowing with food. Harry saw Dobby popping in and out, enabling Molly to enjoy the festivities and not have to do all of the work.

Molly whispered to the couple, “Come on you two, you need to fill your plates first, and then everyone will follow.” Harry and Ginny did as they were directed and sat at the head table with full plates. The guests quickly went through the buffet line and sat as well. At one table sat Ron, Hermione, Molly, and Arthur. The rest of the Weasleys sat at another table, while Professor McGonagall, Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Aubrey, and Lydia sat at the last table. As soon as everyone was seated, Arthur stood and said, “As the father of the bride, I would like to thank you for attending. Your presence is greatly appreciated by the happy couple. Please enjoy the meal and then later we will have some dancing. Tuck in!”

Part of the way through the meal, Harry and Ginny heard some clinking and they looked up and saw Lydia tapping her glass with her knife, a cheeky grin on her face. Aubrey joined in as she whispered to Sirius, and soon the whole table was tapping their glasses. Hermione also added to the noise while she explained to Ron, Molly, and Arthur. The twins shrugged their shoulders and soon all of the guests were gently striking their goblets.

Ginny looked to Harry in confusion, who had a wide smile on his face. He leaned over to her and said, “It’s a Muggle tradition. Whenever the guests tap on their glasses, the bride and groom are supposed to kiss,” he explained in a whisper. He sat upright, raised his hand, and said more loudly, “Alright, but put your sunglasses on first.” When the guests had complied, Harry kissed Ginny gently, resulting in claps from the crowd, and a few catcalls from the twins. Every few minutes, they heard clinking again, usually started by the twins, as they really seemed to enjoy this custom. Harry and Ginny enthusiastically submitted to the requests, even though it did slow down the dining process significantly.

After everyone was done eating, Arthur again stood and announced that it was time for the bride and groom’s first dance. As they walked hand in hand, they could feel the shocks of their magic leaping across the space between them, giving them jolts. As they danced, staring into each other’s eyes, the maelstrom they felt at their first kiss threatened to occur again. They almost had to stop dancing after just a minute as the energy that surrounded them threatened to consume them once more, but they were able to control their surging magic with some concentration. For the next song, Ginny danced with her father while Harry danced with Molly. “Thanks for everything you’ve done, Mum,” said Harry near the end of the dance. “You’ve created a very special day for us. I can’t imagine a better celebration. It’s just missing a few guests,” he said wistfully, looking over at the portraits still in chairs off to the right of the dance floor.

“I’m sure all of your parents would love to be here, Harry, and that they are very proud of the man you have become. I know I am.”

Harry hugged Molly and said, “At least I have one of my mums here” as the song ended.

The next several dances were reserved for other guests so Harry danced with Aubrey, Lydia, Hermione, Fleur, and even Professor McGonagall. It took Ginny a little longer to dance with all of the male guests because of her numerous brothers, so Harry sat down for a few songs and just observed his new wife as she twirled around the floor. When she was finished, she plopped down in her chair and sighed. “That was fun, but my feet are starting to get sore. Not used to wearing these heels.”

“Then, take them off,” said Harry with a grin. “You can do whatever you want; it is your day, after all.”

Our day,” she corrected, as she accepted Harry’s suggestion and took off her shoes. “Ahh, much better.” She leaned back in her chair and propped her feet in Harry’s lap. Harry began massaging her feet, causing Ginny to groan in pleasure. “That feels wonderful, Harry. If this is what married life is going to be like, I think I’m going to like it.”

Harry smiled. “I’ll be happy to rub your feet whenever you’d like, Mrs Potter,” causing Ginny to smile broadly at her new name.

After a few minutes, Ginny was recovered enough to want to return to the dance floor, this time barefoot. This time when she stood, she grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him back out on the dance floor. After a few more dances, Ginny said, “It’s too bad we’re stuck with the music from the Wizarding Wireless. I wouldn’t mind dancing to some of the Muggle music you’ve been letting me listen to since you solved the shielding problems on your CD player.”

Harry grinned. “As you wish, dear.” He nodded to Ron and Hermione, who stood up and went over to a corner of the tent. Soon, music started blaring out of a portable stereo, playing a dance mix tape that Harry had recorded from his CD collection.

“Alright!” yelled Fred. “Let’s get this party started!”

After several fast songs, there were a few more slow ones, and Harry and Ginny had to strive to control their combined magic whenever they held each other closely, but they learned fairly quickly. After a few more songs, Harry felt a tap on his shoulder.

“May I cut in?” asked George. Harry nodded and, as soon as he released Ginny’s hand, George grabbed Harry’s hand and put his other on Harry’s waist. “Let’s show these berks how to dance, Harry!”

George led Harry around the floor in a wild dance, and it was all Harry could do to keep up and not trip over his partner’s feet. The rest of the guests all moved to the edges of the floor to avoid the whirling dervishes as they travelled around the tent, laughing and clapping encouragement to the pair.

When the song ended, Harry had to stop and catch his breath. While he panted on the edge of the room, Ginny brought him a drink, a smirk on her face. “I thought you might need this.”

“Thanks,” he said, gulping down the offered beverage and then sitting down in the nearest chair.

“Did you enjoy that, Potter?” asked Ginny.

“It was fun, but a little shocking. Although I should have expected something like that from the twins.”

When he had recovered, Ginny pulled him out of his chair. “I think it’s time for the twins’ other contribution to the festivities,” she said with a grin. She led him out the back of the marquee where there were some chairs arranged, and most of the rest of the guests were already seated.

“What is this?” asked Harry. “Why are all these chairs facing out, looking at the paddock?”

“You’ll see,” answered Ginny as she led him to a wicker love seat in front of the other chairs. She pushed him down and sat next to him, tucking herself under his arm.

Before they had a chance to get too comfortable, the paddock erupted in a flash of light. Harry jumped up and pulled his wand out, preparing for battle.

Ginny reached over and grabbed his arm, laughing. “Easy there, big boy. It’s just some fireworks. No one’s attacking us.”

Harry let out the breath he was holding. “Sorry, just wasn’t expecting that.” He sat back down and they assumed their previous positions. After watching for a few minutes, Harry said, “Wow, these are really good. Where did the twins get them?”

“Fireworks are one of their specialties. They do this often for Weasley gatherings in the summer. But I think their best was their first. Shortly before they were due to finish at Hogwarts, they decided that they were going to quit early and set off a display that I don’t think anyone will be able to rival. It was their final parting shot at Umbridge, who made the school a living hell that year.”

“That toadish woman who was at my trial? She taught at Hogwarts?” When Ginny nodded, he continued, “I can’t imagine how horrible that must have been. What did she teach?”

“Defence.”

Harry thought for a moment, recalling what he had learned about the Defence teachers from his friends’ stories. “Was she the one that forced you to start the DA?” After another nod, “I can certainly see why you deemed that necessary. I imagine that if I had been there then, I would have been stuck in detention constantly. She seemed a very vindictive crone.”

Ginny snuggled closer to Harry. “Enough talk about toadish crones. I don’t want to spend any more of my wedding day discussing teachers I’d just as much like to forget. Let’s just watch what the twins have done.”

The newlyweds did exactly that. After the last firework, a huge heart with “H + G” through the middle, Harry and Ginny changed into traveling clothes, said their goodbyes, and then Harry tapped the bouquet that Ginny had carried earlier, and they were transported via Portkey into a clearing in front of an A-frame log cabin surrounded by a forest of pine trees.

“Where are we, Harry?”

“This is a cabin owned by my family in the state of Michigan. We would come up here frequently in the summers to spend time at the lake. I thought it would be the perfect place to begin our honeymoon.” He pulled her into a hug and kissed her for a moment before startling her by bending over and lifted her into his arms.

“What are you doing, Potter? Put me down!”

Harry laughed. “It is a Muggle tradition to carry your wife across the threshold on the first night of your marriage.”

Ginny giggled. “Who am I to argue with tradition?”

Harry walked over to the door and waved his hand, opening it. “That’s a little easier than most Muggles have it,” he commented as they entered the cabin. He put her down and she looked around and found herself in the great room of a house. Ginny looked around seeing hardwood floors, a cathedral ceiling, comfortable sofas and chairs, a huge fireplace, and large window that looked out over a lake surrounded by pine trees.

“It’s wonderful, Harry. But it is a little bright, since it is obviously still afternoon here.”

“I can take care of that.” Harry waved his wand and suddenly the windows became black and only candles floating in the air lit the room. “That will prevent light from getting in and out. Hermione warned me that later tonight, things might get a little bright if I didn’t do that spell. Would you like a tour?” At her nod, he showed her the rest of the first floor, including the kitchen, two small bedrooms, and a bathroom. He then led her to the stairs, asking, “Would you like to see the master bedroom?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she replied with a smirk. They walked hand in hand up the stairs into the bedroom. As they opened the door, Ginny found herself in a large room that was dominated by two features, a large stone fireplace and a cherry sleigh bed that was covered in pillows and a down comforter. Harry waved his wand, whispered “Incendio”, and a fire immediately roared in the fireplace.

“It’s wonderful, Harry,” said Ginny as she took it all in. She jumped on the bed, lying back, and sighing. “And comfy, too. I thought the beds at Hogwarts were comfortable, but I think this one might be better. I think we can put this to good use,” she added with a mischievous grin. “Can you get our bags? I have two presents for you packed away.”

Harry reached into his pocket, pulling out two shrunken suitcases. After he used the Engorgement Charm to restore them to their original size, Ginny opened her bag and pulled out two boxes, one of which she handed to Harry. “Here, open this while I get ready.”

Harry, a little confused, asked, “I thought you said two presents. Don’t I get to open both of them?”

“Patience, Harry, patience,” as she turned and walked, box in hand, into the bathroom. Harry removed the ribbon from the box she left with him and opened the lid. Inside he found a luxurious black silk robe that felt like it weighed nothing. Taking the hint, he undressed, put on the robe, and lay down on the bed, awaiting his bride’s return. A few moments later, Ginny entered the room, wearing a matching silk robe, except hers was an emerald green, which contrasted beautifully with her hair. Harry responded by getting up off the bed and approaching her.

“Have I told you lately that you are beautiful?”

Her lips turned up at the corners slightly. “Yes, but not often enough.”

Harry nuzzled her neck and whispered, “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,” as he trailed kisses down her neck and then moved to the other side. Each kiss sent a spark down Ginny’s body and she shivered slightly at his attentions.

Ginny put her arms on his shoulders, pushing him upright so she could look him in his eyes. “Would you like to open this present now?”

Harry’s face lit up as he understood her suggestion. He slowly reached down and pulled on the belt, untying the knot. The front of the robe opened, and he gently pushed it off her shoulders, leaving her in a matching green negligee. As he looked at her beauty, his mouth opened, but he had no words.

Ginny giggled. “You look just like you did when we met at the train station. Good to know I can still leave you speechless.”

Harry pulled her close and whispered, “Beautiful doesn’t quite describe what I am seeing now.” He kissed her neck again, traveling down to her collar bone and then to her shoulder. He started nudging the spaghetti strap off her shoulder and pulled back, looking her in the eyes for permission. When she nodded subtly, he proceeded to kiss her shoulder, moving the strap until it fell loosely over her upper arm. He moved to the other side and repeated his actions and then pulled back again as the garment slipped down and pooled at her feet.

As he took in her magnificence, Ginny asked, “Worth the wait, Mr Potter?” remembering the memory spell Hermione had placed on him so that he would forget the evening Pansy had tried to seduce him.

“Oh, definitely, Mrs Potter.”

“My turn to unwrap a present,” said Ginny, as she tugged on the belt of Harry’s robe and then pushed it off his shoulders. After appreciating the view a moment, she slowly approached him and melted into his embrace and they began kissing passionately. Their magical auras started to swirl around them, like at the wedding, and they pulled back, breathless and a little lightheaded.

“Perhaps we should continue this in the bed so we don’t collapse on the floor,” said Ginny. Harry nodded agreement and pulled back the comforter and they slipped under the covers.

**********

As it is written, “the two shall become one.” As their bodies united, they did not just become one physically, but they became one mentally, emotionally, and magically as well. They could experience each other’s thoughts, sensations, and feelings, and as these sensations and emotions built, it was as if they were bouncing back and forth between them, gaining momentum and growing, until, at the climax, their combined magic let loose. The maelstrom of their auras that occurred at the wedding happened again, but this time, instead of the two separate flames dancing around each other, the magical flames combined and became one as well. Had they not done the spell Hermione had taught them, the light coming off of them would have looked to the area like a huge forest fire had erupted in the middle of the night. The spell didn’t prevent a burst of accidental magic that caused the house to shake, the windows to rattle, the wind to blow, and, yes, even the earth to move. The neighbours on the other side of the lake thought a massive thunderstorm and earthquake had occurred simultaneously, but the young lovers were unaware of all that went on as they were focused on the ultimate gift of love they had given each other.

A/N: For those of you who are interested in the spells, Fateor Res means “reveal being” and Junctum Meus Res Per Vestri means “unite my being with yours,” at least according to Google Translate.

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Chapter 44: Stateside

Author's Notes: Thanks again to Arnel for help on this chapter. She has a great eye for editing, and this story would suffer significantly without her efforts.


Stateside

The next morning, Harry woke to find Ginny nestled against his chest and a smile of contentment broke out across his face. I don’t think I am ever going to get tired of seeing her in the morning.

At that moment, she sighed and snuggled in a little closer and then her eyes opened, looking up into his. Good to know, Harry heard in Ginny’s voice, but her lips didn’t move.

Harry’s eyes opened wide. “Ginny, how did you do that? I could hear you without you saying anything?”

Remember the verse that Hermione found about the spell? She told us that we would be able to talk like this once the Bond was completed.

Harry turned red. Oh, yeah. I forgot. He smiled down at her and thought, So, good morning, Mrs Potter.

And good morning to you, Mr Potter, she replied, kissing him on the chest and then working her way up to his lips. Before they could get more amorous, Ginny’s stomach rumbled.

Ginny turned a little red. Sorry about that; I guess I’m hungry.

Well, we certainly worked up an appetite last night. Let’s go down and see what we can make for breakfast.

They dressed in their dressing gowns and before going downstairs, Ginny said, “Wait. Hermione gave me a letter we are supposed to open this morning.” She pulled a rolled parchment from her bag and they read together.

Dear Mr and Mrs Potter,

(First time I’ve had a chance to write that! Fun, isn’t it?) I hope you enjoyed your first night together as husband and wife. You’ll have to tell me about your experiences when you get back. Well, maybe only some of them. I am very curious about how the combining of your magical auras felt. The books I found tried to describe it, but hearing it first-hand would be wonderful. Remember you need to be very careful using magic at first. You now are much more powerful than you were yesterday. I am guessing that it will be similar to when you first started doing magic while touching each other, but now you don’t have to be in contact for the extra power to become evident. So be careful and, if you ever get out of bed, I would suggest practicing using your new magical power.

Enjoy your honeymoon! Ron and I can’t wait for you to return so we can hear about it. (Although Ron wants a very edited version!)

Love,

Hermione

When they finished reading the letter, they went down to the kitchen, as Ginny’s stomach grumbled again. On the counter, Harry noticed a set of keys with a note that read “Congratulations on your graduation, Brook! Jay” “What are those Harry? And what does he mean by ‘your graduation’?” asked Ginny.

“Jay is the man who runs my dad’s, no, I guess my company. I told him that I would be coming back after graduation and asked him to get the cabin ready. I didn’t notice this last night when we came in. I guess I was a little distracted,” he said with a smirk. “Let’s check in the garage.”

They went out through the back door of the kitchen into the garage and Harry gasped. A fire engine red Mustang convertible, shining as new, filled the centre of the garage. “Oh, how fun! It’s just like the one you and your dad fixed up!” said Ginny. She turned to see Harry’s reaction and was stunned to see tears falling down his face. “What’s wrong?”

Harry took a deep breath and said, “It’s also the car they died in.”

Ginny hugged Harry, letting his tears fall. After a few moments, Harry stood upright and said, “After breakfast, we’ll have to take it out and see what it can do. That’s what my parents would want.”

**********

Over the next week, Harry and Ginny saw exactly what the Mustang could do and spent a lot of time driving around the back roads of rural Michigan. Harry even taught Ginny how to drive the car. She had always been interested in driving her dad’s Ford Anglia, but her mum had always vetoed any of the children learning, though she knew that the twins had snuck it out a few times, and she suspected that Ron had driven it (or flown it) to Hermione’s last summer. The Mustang didn’t fly, but she was pretty sure it was a lot more fun to drive on the ground than the Anglia was.

In addition to enjoying the convertible, they also spent time around the lake, either swimming, canoeing, or just lazing about on the beach. They loved the privacy that the Pelton’s cabin allowed and managed to not see another person except when on the roads. Of course, they made good use of the sleigh bed as well. They also followed Hermione’s advice concerning practicing with their newly combined magic. It didn’t take long to gain control, as they had already gone through a similar process with Remus and Tonks when they were learning to use their magic when physically touching. They gradually stopped talking, choosing to communicate through their Bond most of the time. They finished each day cuddling on the porch swing, enjoying the sunset.

Harry also introduced Ginny to campfire cooking. “I don’t know why, but the absolutely best way to enjoy a hot dog is when it has been cooked over a fire,” he explained, and she agreed, though she hadn’t exactly eaten many hot dogs in her life. He also introduced her to the concept of S’mores, including the Pelton tradition of adding peanut butter to the more traditional chocolate, toasted marshmallow, and graham cracker. She giggled when he explained the meaning of the name.

One morning while having a lie in, Harry thought, Gin, I would really like to show you where I grew up. How about we drive down to my house and spend a few days in Ohio?

Whatever you want, love, as long as we’re together.

That sounds terribly sappy, Mrs Potter, but I couldn’t agree more.

After lunch, they left in the Mustang, the top down, on a glorious sunny day. Ginny loved the feeling of driving fast in the car, letting the wind blow through her hair, and Harry had to concentrate on the road, easily distracted by the obvious peace on her face. They arrived in Harry’s hometown just after sundown. He parked in the garage and then gave Ginny a tour of his house. Ginny yawned and thought, It’s amazing how tiring just sitting in a car all day can be. I’m so used to Apparition and Floo travel, and I do see the appeal of traveling like a Muggle, but it takes a lot out of you. Shall we go to bed?

Thought you’d never ask, Harry thought back, with a smirk on his face.

As they walked around the house, Ginny thought, Now it’s my chance to experience déjà vu. After watching you grow up in my dreams, everything is so familiar to me.

They prepared for bed and soon were in his bedroom, under the covers. I always fantasized about having a beautiful girl, hopefully that red headed girl in my dreams, in here, he said as he reached over, pulling her toward him, and they started kissing.

Just as things began to get more passionate, the door slammed open and the lights came on. Harry turned over quickly, reaching for his wand when he heard, “Holbrook Jeffrey Pelton! What are you doing?”

Harry grabbed his glasses and saw Mr and Mrs Roberts standing in the doorway, and his best friend’s mother was furious. Ginny was trying to cover herself with the sheets, as she was obviously frightened. “You two get dressed and down to the living room, now!” The two Roberts then left, slamming the door.

Before Ginny could ask, Harry thought, They are the Roberts, my best friend’s parents. Don’t worry; once we explain everything, they’ll love you.

Everything? asked Ginny.

Harry chuckled and responded, Maybe not everything, but at least that we’re married. They may be shocked for a while as we are very young to be married, but they’ll get over it.

As they dressed, Ginny began to chuckle. What? asked Harry.

I was just thinking how much Mrs Roberts sounded like my mum. Even called you by all three names.

Harry shrugged. She was my mom’s best friend. Aaron and I managed to commit enough mischief together that both moms used our full names quite frequently when we were younger.

They quickly dressed and faced the angry parents. As they entered the living room, Harry was about to greet his best friend’s parents, but before Harry could say anything, Mrs Roberts said, “Brook, what were you thinking? Here we are scared that someone has broken into your house because we saw lights coming from your bedroom and instead of thieves, we find two hormonally crazed teenagers with no clothes on. What would your parents say? I am so ashamed of you!”

Harry looked over at Ginny sheepishly. Guess we forgot to do Hermione’s spell. “Mrs Roberts, please let me explain. Sorry we didn’t tell you we were coming, but we just decided this morning to come. We never thought that you might think that someone was breaking in. As to what you caught us doing, I think my parents would be okay with it.” He stood up straighter, and said, “Mr and Mrs Roberts, I would like you to meet Ginny, my wife.”

Two chins dropped, but Mrs Roberts recovered quickly, her eyes narrowing. “You’re too young to be married, Brook. You didn’t have to get married, did you?”

Ginny and Harry looked at each other in shock. How could they know that we had to get married to defeat Voldemort? thought Ginny.

Then Harry noticed that the two parents were both staring at Ginny’s lower abdomen and a light bulb went off in his head. Chuckling, he said, “No, Mrs Roberts, Ginny isn’t pregnant.” Both of the Roberts let out a sigh of relief. “As to being too young, in the British culture, it is not uncommon for people to get married at a younger age. Many of my schoolmates are getting married within a year of graduating from school and we decided we couldn’t wait.”

There was an awkward silence, which was eventually broken by Mr Roberts. “Oh. Well, I guess congratulations are in order, Brook. You’ve caught yourself quite a looker there,” he with a wink.

Ginny blushed and said, “Thank you.”

“We should let you two get back to bed then, but don’t think this lets you off the hook,” said Mrs Roberts, waving her finger at them. “We are not happy that you went and got married without letting us know. Tomorrow morning the two of you will be coming to our house for breakfast and give us all the details.”

As they left, Harry thought, Imagine how they would feel if we let them know I went and died without telling them, too. Ginny responded with a giggle and they went back to bed. After cuddling for a little, Harry thought, Gin, I think we need to tell them the truth about us. They aren’t going to accept this otherwise.

How much truth?

Most of it. I think we can spare them all the details of my untimely demise, but certainly about magic, our Soul Bond, and why we needed to get married.

What about the Statute of Secrecy?

Since I knew we were coming here for our honeymoon, I asked Hermione about it. She did some investigating and learned that the US Ministry is a little more lenient with information about magic. In Britain, you are only allowed to inform family, but here you can tell close friends if necessary. I trust the Roberts; I know they won’t tell anyone else.

That could make breakfast interesting, thought Ginny with a smirk.

**********

The next morning after showering and dressing, Harry and Ginny walked over to the Roberts’ house for breakfast. Before Harry could push the doorbell, the front door opened and Aaron greeted them with a huge smile. “Brook!” and he pulled him into a hug.

“Excited about starting college?” asked Brook.

“Yeah, all packed, ready to go later this week. But that’s not important. I want to hear about you. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?”

“It was sort of last minute; we weren’t sure where we were going for our honeymoon until just a few days ago and we’ve been a little busy,” Harry replied with a raise of one of his eyebrows.

Aaron hit him on the arm, looked at Ginny and said, “I’ll bet you have, I’ll bet you have. So this is the famous Ginny you’ve written me about.” He turned to her and shook her hand. “I can see why Brook was so obsessed with you last fall before you started dating. The picture he sent doesn’t do you justice. I don’t think I could have paid attention in class either if I had been there.”

Ginny blushed at his comments. “He told you I was distracting him, huh?”

“I should show you some of his letters. I’ve never heard of someone having it so bad for a girl. He was absolutely beside himself, gushing about you. And his letters since then have been all about you as well. I’ve wondered if he actually attended classes after the first of the year.” Brook had turned red when Aaron turned back to Brook and said, “And now I hear you’re married! Why wasn’t I invited?”

“It was just a small ceremony with Ginny’s family and we had to plan it quickly. There wasn’t time to send out invitations.”

Aaron put his arm around Brook and led them into the kitchen. As they walked, Aaron whispered to Brook, “Why so quick? I know what you told my parents, but she’s really not pregnant, is she?”

Harry smiled and responded, “No, she isn’t pregnant. We’ll explain later.” They entered the kitchen and greeted Aaron’s parents. Mrs Roberts had prepared a brunch that would have pleased Mrs Weasley with an egg casserole, waffles, hash browns, biscuits and gravy, other breads and muffins, and fruit. The Roberts wanted to get to know Ginny better, so they discussed Ginny’s family and school. They asked about how Brook had proposed, about their wedding and honeymoon so far.

“How do you enjoy being Ginny Pelton?” asked Mrs Roberts. “I know it took me a while to get used to my married name.”

Ginny and Harry looked at each other and agreed mentally that it was time to start telling the truth. “Well,” began Harry, “that’s actually not her name.”

“She’s not taking your name?” asked Mr Roberts.

“Let me explain. I’ve been keeping a few things from all of you. My life has changed a lot since my parents died, more than you can imagine. I’ve learned a lot about myself in the past year and when I have told you all about what’s happened, you’ll understand better. The first thing is that I learned who my birth parents were and my birth name. I was born Harry Potter. And that is the name I go by in England, so this is Ginny Potter.”

“Brook, why go by your birth name? It’s like you’re denouncing your parents,” said Mrs Roberts, disappointment obvious in her tone.

“I certainly am not doing that. But, you see in England, everyone knows me as Harry Potter, because, well, I’m sort of famous there,” he said sheepishly.

“What? We don’t understand? How can you be famous?”

“That will take some explaining. It will also help you understand why we were married so young. The next thing I need to tell you that is that I learned that I have abilities that I never dreamed of. Ginny and all of the other students at my school all have the same abilities. You see, the school I went to last year was not a technical school like I told you, but a school for magic. The truth is, I am a wizard and I can do magic.”

“What do you mean, you can do magic? We’ve known you your whole life and we’ve never seen you do any magic.” asked Aaron incredulously.

“Actually you have. Mrs Roberts, do you remember the time when I was about eight or nine and the power was out in the neighbourhood, but it was on at my house?” She nodded. “Aaron, how about that time at school when I almost fought Scott Johnson? What happened to stop it?”

“Everything started shaking and we thought there was an earthquake, but only the school seemed to be involved as no one else felt it.”

“Right. All of these events can be explained by what wizards call ‘accidental magic,’ something that magical folk do before they learn to control their powers. Even that catch at the regional championship was due to magic. Believe me, I’ve watched the videotape, and there is no way I would have caught that ball without some unexplainable force.”

“So, you say that all of this can be explained by magic? And that you go to a school where all of the students can do magic? Ginny can do this too?” asked Mr Roberts.

“Yes, sir,” replied Ginny. “My whole family can.”

“How does one become magical?” asked Mrs Roberts.

“Most people get it from their parents. My birth parents were magical, too,” responded Harry. “However, some people who have parents without magic become magical. One of our best friends, Hermione, is what we call Muggleborn. Muggles are what people without magic are called. Hermione thinks that magic may be transmitted through a gene or genes, and Muggleborns get it from either a mutation or from a long hidden gene that is expressed in that generation for some reason.”

“Ok, so what can you do with magic?” asked Aaron.

“Almost anything. What would you like to see?”

After levitating an assortment of breakfast pastries around the room, conjuring a bluebell flame, transfiguring a waffle into a gerbil, and summoning Aaron’s baseball mitt from his room, a mischievous grin appeared on Harry’s face and he said, “I’ll be back in a moment,” and disappeared with a barely audible pop.

“Where did he go? Can he use magic to become invisible?” asked Aaron.

“Well, he can, but that’s not what he did this time,” said Ginny with a snicker. “He just did what we call Apparating. It’s a magical way to travel from one place to another instantaneously. From what I can tell, he’s at his old school, and from the look on his face before he left makes me think that he might be up to no good.”

A few moments later, Harry popped back to his seat, startling the Roberts. “Where did you go?” asked Aaron.

“To Coach Siferd’s office. Look what I have,” he said, holding up a whistle.

“No!” exclaimed Aaron. “That’s ‘The Whistle,’” he said, in awe. “No one’s allowed to touch that whistle.”

Brook’s face showed a mischievous grin. “Imagine the look on his face when he gets to school today for practice and finds it gone! He probably won’t be able to run practice at all.” Aaron and Harry laughed for a moment. “I’ll return it after lunch. Boy, I would love to see his face when he finds it sitting on his desk again.”

Well, you could hide under your cloak, Ginny sent to him, causing him to grin, but shake his head.

“Okay, you’ve shown off what you can do with magic,” said Mrs Roberts. “You were going to explain why you are famous in England, and why you are married at such a young age.”

“That will take a while,” Brook said as he looked around the table. He then went on to explain about the first war against Voldemort, the prophecy, the date of his real birthday, and why Voldemort wanted to kill him. “But when he shot a spell called the Killing Curse at me, it made both of us disappear, and most people believed that we were both killed. What really happened was that I was magically sent to my nearest relative, which happened to be my mom, Angela. She was my birth mother’s second cousin.

Mrs Roberts nodded and said, “I remember Angela mentioning that she had family in England, and that she had always wanted to meet them. That was one of the leads they were going to follow when they were visiting Europe.”

“When I was sent here, Voldemort was banished in the opposite direction, to Siberia, in a weakened form. Now, he has returned and is starting a second Wizarding war. And one of his main targets is me. That’s what happened to Mom and Dad. One of Voldemort’s underlings killed them so that he could kidnap me.”

Mrs Roberts attempted to suppress a sob as she reached for a tissue. Her husband put his arm around her and patted her shoulder.

“Fortunately, I was saved before I could be captured. Do you remember the distant uncle who convinced me to change to the ‘technical school’?” The Roberts nodded. “He was the one who saved me. He was a powerful wizard and headmaster of the school I attended.”

“Was?” asked Aaron.

Brook bowed his head. “Yeah, he was killed this spring in an attack on the school.” Ginny sniffed next to him and he gave her hand a squeeze.

“It looks like you were both close to him. I’m sorry,” said Mrs Roberts as she handed Ginny a tissue.

“Thanks,” murmured Ginny.

“Anyway,” continued Brook, “the prophecy that said I was the one who could defeat him also said that I would have a power that he didn’t. That’s where Ginny comes in.” He turned to her, squeezed her hand again, and smiled at her before continuing.

“Do you remember my parents teasing me about the ‘little red headed girl’ that would appear in my dreams?” The Roberts all nodded. “And you’ve heard of the term ‘soul mates’?” More nodding of heads encouraged Brook to continue, “It turns out that soul mates are real in the magical world and Ginny is my soul mate. She wasn’t just a figment of my imagination; I was really was dreaming of my future wife like my mom would tease me. What I was actually seeing was Ginny in her life in England. It helps explain some of the weird things that occurred in those dreams, like pots and pans stirring themselves, and a house that looked like there was no way that it could stand up without collapsing. And she was dreaming of me, too. She was confused by a lot of the things she saw in her dreams, like baseball and our funny uniforms, or TV, which they don’t have in the Wizarding world.”

“No TV?” interrupted Aaron. “I can’t imagine not having a TV. Whatever did you do for fun growing up, Ginny?”

Brook rolled his eyes.

“Lots of the same things you did. We played games, swam in our pond, read books, went flying on brooms,” Ginny said with a smirk.

“You can fly on a broom?” asked Aaron, his eyes wide. He turned to his friend. “Can you fly too, Brook?”

“Sure, it’s easy.”

“Brook’s a natural. He’s one of the best flyers in our school,” added Ginny.

“Do you remember the intramural sport that I wrote you about, Quidditch?” Brook asked Aaron.

“Yeah, you said it was like team handball,” replied Aaron, a little confused by the change in subject.

“It is a little like team handball, except it’s played up in the air on brooms,” explained Brook with a smile.

“Brook is so good that he was offered a spot on a professional team,” bragged Ginny. “Quidditch is huge in the Wizarding world. According to one of my friends who was born in a non-magical family, it’s a lot like football in your world.”

“Ginny means soccer,” corrected Brook. “They even have a World Quidditch Cup, just like the World Cup in soccer.”

Brook hesitated for a moment and Ginny could sense his anxiety through their Bond. She squeezed his hand and encouraged him to continue. “By the way, Aaron, I’m sorry that I kept all of this about magic from you in my letters. There is a law that says we aren’t supposed to tell non-magical people about magic. While much of the content of what I wrote was true, I did have to mislead you a lot. I felt guilty doing it, but short of not writing you at all, it was my only option.”

Aaron nodded. “I understand. But now that I know the truth, you can make it up to me with your letters in the future.”

Brook let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks for being so forgiving. I was worried that you might be mad that I had lied to you. Back to what I was saying, as part of our Soul Bond, we are stronger magically together than we are apart, which brings us to why Ginny and I got married. There is one spell that we believe can defeat Voldemort once and for all that can only be performed by a Soul Bond couple. Unfortunately, it could only be performed after the Soul Bond is completed and consummated through marriage and … um … marital relations.” Harry was a little frustrated that after explaining this to several people already, he still became embarrassed when discussing the details of the Bond’s fulfilment. “So, that is why we ‘had’ to get married, not because Ginny was pregnant.”

At this, Mrs Roberts looked distinctly relieved, although she said nothing.

“There’s one other thing that is very important and you must keep this a secret,” Brook stressed. “To fool Voldemort, I faked my death. Right now, the entire British Wizarding world believes that Harry Potter is dead. There are some people who know that my name here in America is Brook Pelton, so if news came out that I was here, it might get back to Voldemort. So, I am asking the three of you to keep my visit here a secret.”

**********

The next few days were spent showing Ginny around Brook’s hometown and sightseeing around Ohio. Each morning, they would Disillusion themselves and the car as they would leave the garage of his house, and then, when they were far enough away and in a secluded area, they would remove the charm to allow them to drive safely. Harry wore yet another glamour, this time curly bleach blond hair, blue eyes, and a dark suntan, making him look like a California surfer. They spent one day at an amusement park that had several roller coasters and other rides. Harry was unsure if the roller coasters would be much of a thrill for Ginny, since she flew on a broom with nothing like the restraints they were required to have on the rides. However, they both found that, since they weren’t in control of where they were going like they were on brooms, the dips, accelerations, twists, and turns still were exhilarating. He also introduced her to some classic amusement park junk food like chili cheese fries and funnel cakes.

The next day they went to a zoo, which Ginny had never gone to as a child. Being raised without television or movies, Ginny had never seen many of these animals other than in books, so she enjoyed herself immensely. They laughed at the antics of the two polar bear cubs that were wrestling each other and the penguins that seemed to love diving in and out of the water. She was amazed at the size of the elephants and giraffes, and surprised at how sedate all the large cats were in their habitats.

Because it was a hot day, they decided to go in the reptile house because it was air-conditioned. As they were checking out the lizards, turtles, and other animals, they came to a display with a large python in it. They heard a voice saying that it was hungry, and they looked around, expecting to see a child talking to his or her mother, but there was no one else around. They then turned back to the snake, saw its tongue dart in and out, and heard, “Do either of you two have any food for me, a rat perhapss? The other two-legss haven’t given me anything for dayss.”

Harry and Ginny looked around again, but the voice seemed to be coming from the snake. Harry, hesitatingly said, “Are you talking to us?”

“Yesss, who else is here? How odd. I’ve never had a two legss answer me back.”

Harry looked over at Ginny and asked, Are you hearing this, too?

Yeah, but when you spoke to the snake you sounded a little strange, like you had a lisp.

You try.

“We don’t have any ratss, but maybe we can talk to the keepers and get you ssome food.”

Harry thought back to her, You sound like you have a lisp, too.

Harry, we must be Parselmouths! Remember when I told you that I used Parseltongue to open the Chamber of Secrets while I was possessed by Tom. Salazar Slytherin was one of the first Parselmouths, which is why Slytherin house’s mascot is the snake. It’s really rare, and most people who have it are thought to be Dark wizards.

Oh, yeah. Remus said that the Gaunts could talk to snakes because they were descended from Slytherin. But how come we can do it?

I don’t know. I thought it was Tom who did the talking in the Chamber, not me. Any ideas?

You’re asking me? How would I know?

I guess we can ask Hermione when we return home. For now, we better see if we can find the zookeepers and ask them to feed the snake, since I said we would.

**********

After spending the day at the zoo, Harry took Ginny to a minor league baseball game. In addition to the rules (which were much easier to understand while watching an actual game), Harry introduced her to some of the other essential traditions of baseball, like hot dogs, peanuts, and the seventh inning stretch, complete with teaching her the words to “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”

The next day, a Saturday, he and Ginny went to the airport and his dad’s (actually his now) hangar. He had asked Jay to prepare the stunt plane for him, but to keep it a secret, explaining that he didn’t want people to know he was home. After he taught her how to buckle up properly, he asked her, "Ready?" When she nodded, he turned the engines up to full and released the brakes, causing them to shoot down the runway and soon they were in the air. At first they just flew around for a while, but after about thirty minutes, just when Ginny was getting comfortable, Harry started putting the plane through its paces, reproducing many of the manoeuvres he performed on a broom in the plane, like loops and barrel rolls. At first Ginny was terrified, gripping her seat with white knuckles, but by the time Harry did an aviation approximation of a Wronski Feint, she was whooping with joy as Harry pulled back on the yoke to stop their rapid descent.

After a few minutes of this, Harry pulled out of a barrel roll and let Ginny get her breath back. That was great! she thought. Similar to flying in a broom, but different, and so much faster! Now, I understand how you could be such a great flyer on a broomstick with almost no experience; you’ve been doing those kinds of stunts for years, haven’t you?

Yep, he replied with a smile. The tricks are actually easier on a broom, so I picked it up pretty quickly. His grin grew and he thought, Do you want to try?

Me? I can’t fly this.

Why not? It’s not that much more complicated than driving a car and you learned that easily enough. And why do you think there is a yoke in front of both seats? He then explained all the controls and what the gauges meant. Soon Ginny was flying the plane, but she wasn’t daring enough to try any stunts. They flew for a few hours and then landed, where they alit and had a picnic lunch on a riverbank. After a short nap under the shade of the trees, Harry flew them back home.

He also introduced her to riding on his motorcycle, which she enjoyed even more than flying in the plane. Sitting behind him, holding on tight around his waist, and leaning with him in the turns was very reminiscent of flying together on a broom; they just never left the ground.

***********

On the last day before returning to England, Harry brought Ginny to the cemetery where the Peltons were buried. He removed the glamour when he approached the gravesite, as he thought he should talk to his parents in his natural appearance. He laid a conjured bouquet before the headstone that held their names and knelt in the grass, Ginny’s hand on his shoulder.

“Mom and Dad, I miss you so much. So much has happened in the past year, it’s hard to tell you all of it. Shortly after you died, I learned that I was magical and that some of the odd things that happened to me were because of that. I also learned who my birth parents were, and that I actually am related to you by blood, Mom. My birth mother and you are second cousins. It turns out that my birth parents were killed by an evil wizard and some magic sent me to you when he tried to kill me too. I went to school in Scotland like we planned, but a different one so I could learn how to use my magic. I’ve made lots of friends and learned a lot. Unfortunately, that evil wizard is still after me, and, when I go back to England, I am going to have to face him again.

“There is so much that I want to tell you, but the most important thing is about the woman here with me. I’m sure you remember the ‘little red headed girl’ I dreamed about. Well, I’ve met her, and Mom, you were right; I was dreaming about my future wife. Her name is Ginny and we were married a few weeks ago. Today is the end of our honeymoon. I think the thing I miss the most with you two gone is that you never were able to meet Ginny and weren’t there at our wedding. You would have liked it; it was a simple outdoor wedding with just a few friends and family as guests. We had pictures of you in the front row, where you would have been had you survived the crash. I know you two would have loved Ginny. Maybe someday, when we are reunited in heaven, I can introduce the three of you and you can get to know her then.

“We have to go, but I’ll be back; I promise. I love you, Mom and Dad.” He kissed his hand and then touched each of their names softly before rising and pulling Ginny into a hug.

As they walked back to the car, Ginny spotted a restroom and left him for a moment. While he was waiting, he heard someone say, “Brook?” from behind him.

He turned quickly, realizing too late that he forgot to replace the glamour charm. He took a deep breath when he realized who it was. “Hi, Lisa. How are you?”

Lisa came closer and gave him a hug. “I’m fine. What are you doing here? Have you come back? Aaron said that you were staying in England to attend school, so you weren’t going to be back this summer.”

“I am attending school in England this year again, but I came home for a quick visit.”

“I’m so glad I ran into you. I’ve wanted to apologize for how I acted last year. I was horrible to you. There were several times that I almost came to your house in the days after prom, but I chickened out. And then your parents … well, you know, and it didn’t seem the right time.”

“It’s okay, Lisa. Everything is forgiven.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” She looked down at her feet for a moment and then looked up into his eyes. “Brook, I’ve been thinking about us a lot this past year, and I realized that I was moving too fast. I think I wanted to have something between us that would hold us together while we were apart. But now I know that sex wasn’t the right idea.” She came closer to him and put her hand on his chest, adding, “I don’t suppose that you’d give me another chance, would you? We do make a good couple.”

Brook took her hand from his chest and said, “Lisa, no, I can’t do that. I’ve met someone.”

Lisa’s face turned red. “Certainly she can’t love you like I love you, Brook. Please, give me another chance,” she begged.

“No, Lisa, you can’t love me like she loves me. She and I were destined to be together. As a matter of fact, we’re married,” he said, showing her his ring. At this moment, Ginny appeared. “And here she is.” He put his arm around Ginny’s shoulder and said, “Ginny, I would like you to meet Lisa Rice. Lisa, this is Ginny Pelton, my wife.” At her questioning look, Harry quickly let her see who Lisa was through their Bond. It’s just easier to call you Ginny Pelton than explain everything, he explained. She nodded her understanding.

The two women shook hands frostily, Lisa being unhappy that Brook had been taken from her, and Ginny knowing that this was the girl who tried to sever their Soul Bond by having sex with her husband-to-be. Ginny pulled Harry closer and snuggled in, causing Lisa obviously discomfort. She said, “Well, I should be going. Nice to see you, Brook.”

“Nice to see you as well, Lisa. Hope things go well for you at college.”

As they walked hand in hand back to the car, Harry thought, I’d like to go visit James and Lily’s grave sometime soon. I didn’t really see much when you came to rescue me.

We’ll do that. It’s actually a popular tourist attraction for wizards. Ginny tried to stay serious, but couldn’t suppress a giggle.

What’s so funny? Harry asked, a little miffed that she would laugh at the idea of him visiting his parents’ graves.

Well, I just thought about what is in the town square in Godric’s Hollow. They erected a statue to commemorate ‘The Family-That-Died-So-We-Could-Live’ that appears whenever a witch or wizard comes near. It is your mum and dad holding you as a baby, with all of your birth and death dates. I made my parents take me every year on Halloween before I went to Hogwarts because of my obsession with you. It just struck me as funny that you have a memorial celebrating the sacrifice of your life when you are obviously very much alive.

When we visit it, we’ll just keep that secret between us, he thought, smirking down at her as he pulled her into a hug.

A/N: By the way, I strongly recommend the addition of peanut butter to S’mores, as Harry showed Ginny. My family won’t have them the normal way anymore.

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Chapter 45: Back to Reality

Author's Notes: This chapter features an event that I'm sure most of you readers have been anticipating. Hope it meets your expectations.


Back to Reality

Ginny and Harry took a Portkey back to the Burrow after dropping off the Mustang with Jay. Molly, of course, had a large feast to celebrate their return, with all of the family there to welcome them home.

“Have we missed anything? What’s Voldemort been up to?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione after dinner.

“Actually, not much” replied Hermione, with a trace of confusion in her tone. “Since you left things have been very quiet. The attacks that had become fairly regular have stopped for some reason.”

That’s odd , Harry thought to Ginny. Not sure if that’s good or bad.

You’re right; are they having problems that they are dealing with or is this lull before the storm?

We can hope for the former, but I’m guessing the latter.

“Ahem.” Harry and Ginny looked over at Hermione. “I can see that one of the reported traits of the mature Soul Bond has occurred, but it is rude to have mental conversations while we are sitting here in the room.”

The couple turned a little pink. “Sorry about that, Hermione. I guess we became so used to communicating in our heads on our honeymoon that sometimes we forget to actually talk.”

“We do have a new Minister,” said Arthur, obviously not happy with the change. “His name is Pius Thicknesse. He was Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement before he was elected Minister.”

“I thought Madam Bones was Head of DMLE,” said Harry.

Arthur shook his head. “She was, but she was a victim of that rash of Death Eater attacks while you were ‘dead.’ He was promoted since he was her second in command.”

“You don’t sound like you’re real happy with the new Minister, Daddy,” said Ginny.

“I have been disappointed. I thought he would be a good minister because I’ve always respected his work with Amelia Bones. But he’s been making some … let me say, odd, decisions since he’s been in office. I’m not sure what to make of it. I guess time will tell.”

Harry and Ginny had returned August thirtieth, so the next day was very busy as Ginny had to pack up everything for school. Hermione and Ron had done all her shopping at Diagon Alley the previous week after opening her Hogwarts letter.

On September first, Harry kissed Ginny as she stepped into the Ford Anglia with her father, thinking, Meet you in your suite tonight. Don’t forget about the Concealment Charm on your wedding ring. Ginny would be wearing her engagement ring, but her wedding ring would be hidden.

Harry was going to be splitting his time between Ginny’s Head Girl suite and the flat above the Hogsmeade branch of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes to allow Ginny some time to herself for her studies and to give him something to do. During the days, he would use his “California surfer dude” disguise and work in the shop. So, as the Weasleys drove off, Harry changed his appearance and then Apparated to the Hogsmeade branch. While he worked, he couldn’t help thinking about Ginny. Who is she sitting with on the train? Probably Luna and Colin, maybe Demelza. Then, suddenly a vision swept before his eyes as if he was sitting in a compartment on a train. Across from him Luna was reading The Quibbler, upside down of course, and Colin was reading a book on Wizarding photography. His head turned and he saw that Demelza was sleeping, leaning against the window and Lydia was sitting next to her, fidgeting with her wand.

Merlin! I wasn’t expecting that to happen!

A moment later, he could hear Ginny’s response in his mind. What was that, Harry? What weren’t you expecting?

I was wondering who you were sitting with on the train, and, instantly, I could see the train through your eyes. I know we’ve been talking in our minds since our wedding night, but we haven’t shared senses like that before.

Well, it’s not like we’ve been apart much since that night, have we?

Good point. This might take some getting used to, being able to eavesdrop on each other.

It might be fun, too. Just don’t do anything you don’t want me to find about, Mr Potter.

As you wish, Mrs Potter. Have a good rest of the trip. Love you.

Love you, too.

Harry returned to work, trying to keep his mind off of his wife. As he was closing up for the day, he heard the train whistle and knew that she was probably getting off the Hogwarts Express and getting into a carriage. The thought sparked a sudden concern. Through their bond, he sent her a message. Ginny!

Ow, Potter! That hurt! Why are you yelling at me?

Sorry, I just realized something. Can you see the thestrals pulling the carriages this year?

No, but why should I? I haven’t seen anyone die.

True, but everyone thinks you did. You need to act like you can see them! Think about how I reacted last year when I saw them and learned what it meant. You want to make sure to act like you are still in mourning. After all, the best boyfriend in the history of the world did die just a few months ago.

Prat! How am I supposed to act like I am in grief if you’re saying things to make me laugh?

Sorry, just try.

Later, while he ate a sandwich that Mrs Weasley had packed for him, he thought about the wonderful meal that she was enjoying at the opening feast. He wondered if the beginning of the term would be different this year with Professor McGonagall in charge instead of Professor Dumbledore. Again, instantly he saw the Great Hall through Ginny’s eyes. This time he could taste the food she was eating as well as hearing the conversations that were going on about her.

At the feast, Ginny tried to listen to the Sorting Hat’s song, but lost interest quickly. After dinner, as she was ensuring that all of the prefects were taking care of the new Gryffindors, Headmistress McGonagall came up to her and asked her to meet her in her office with the Head Boy, Alistair Cadwallader. They discussed some business, such as setting up prefect rounds schedules, before McGonagall dismissed Cadwallader, and asking Ginny to stay for a few moments.

After he had left, McGonagall asked, “Miss Weasley, or should I say, Mrs Potter,” the Headmistress gave her a wink, “would you please Floo your husband and ask him to join us?”

“That won’t be necessary, Headmistress,” Ginny responded with a smirk. A few moments later, a pop was heard, and Harry appeared in the office.

The Headmistress was obviously confused for a moment, but then a look of understanding showed on her face. “Oh, yes, your Soul Bond. I forgot. Nevertheless, welcome, Mr Potter. Please have a seat. I wanted to talk to the two of you to review your situation. While I appreciate that it is unusual, we do have some ground rules to ensure that you don’t take too much advantage of your special abilities.”

Ginny and Harry looked at each other nervously. “Mrs Potter, with your unusual ability to Apparate, I know that you could leave the school without my knowing it very easily. However, I must ask you to remember that you are still a student here. You have N.E.W.T.s this year, so you have to discipline yourself to keep up with your courses and revising, and not let Mr Potter distract you too much. You also have your duties as Head Girl and Quidditch captain, which you must not shirk. And you, Mr Potter, are not a student, and non-students are generally not allowed in the castle.

“With these responsibilities in mind, I am going to place these restrictions on you. First, Mr Potter, you may visit your wife each night except the one that she is assigned to do rounds. That night you must stay in Hogsmeade. Second, Mrs Potter, I expect you to spend most evenings in the common room or library doing homework. As Head Girl, you must be accessible to the younger students. It is not acceptable for you to go up to your room immediately after dinner just so you can spend it with Harry.” She stared at them with a knowing look and the couple nodded in agreement.

“Third, Harry may come to the castle on the weekends for training in the Room of Requirement, but you are not allowed to be in any area other than Ginny’s room at other times, and then only at night. By the way, as part of that training, I want to spend a few hours with the two of you each week. There is some Advanced Transfiguration that I would like to see you try. Fourth, Mrs Potter, you are allowed to visit Harry in Hogsmeade on either Saturday or Sunday, but not both, and only if you stay out of sight and in his flat. We can’t have you being seen out of the castle outside of Hogsmeade weekends. You are also allowed to spend the night either Friday or Saturday there if you wish. Any questions?”

“Are we allowed to go somewhere else other than my flat on the weekends if we aren’t seen?” asked Harry.

Professor McGonagall thought for a moment. “No, I am bending the rules enough as it is, and as Headmistress, I need to know where the Head Girl is at all times.”

“Thank you, Professor; I think you are being more than fair,” said Ginny, and Harry nodded in agreement.

“Good, I am glad we have come to an understanding. Now, Mrs Potter, I believe you should be returning to your dorm so Mr Potter can join you.” Ginny stood up quickly, gave Harry a peck on the cheek, and left.

“So, how is married life treating you, Mr Potter?” asked the Headmistress.

Harry felt his face warm a little before answering, “Good. No, great! Our honeymoon was a lot of fun.” At the professor’s smirk, he continued. “That’s not what I meant. I took Ginny to the States and showed her where we vacationed as a family and my hometown. She even met a few of my friends. I treated her to a few Muggle attractions and took her flying in an airplane and riding on my motorcycle. It was amusing to see the wonder on her face as she experienced all these things for the first time. I imagine that I looked very similar about a year ago. It was good to be home and be able to share my happy memories with her. It was a lot less painful for me than I was expecting. Sharing those memories with her just seemed right and not difficult.”

They continued to chat for a few moments, before Harry said, “Professor, Ginny just told me that she has finished all her duties and is ready for bed. May I join her?”

“Of course, Harry. I will look forward to seeing you again in the future.”

When she heard the soft pop behind her, Ginny turned quickly and jumped into Harry’s arms. I missed you so much, she thought as she kissed him thoroughly. They had discovered during their honeymoon that mental communication while kissing was just one of the happy advantages of their new ability.

After a few minutes of kissing, they separated and perused the Head Girl Suite. They were currently standing in a small sitting room, with a sofa and two armchairs, as well as a fireplace. Harry noticed that there were two doors on either end of one wall.

One leads to the hallway outside of the portrait hole and the other directly to the Gryffindor common room, explained Ginny.

I’ve never seen doors there before, thought Harry, confusion obvious in his thoughts.

Ginny lightly swatted at his arm. You’ve known you are a wizard for more than a year and you still don’t totally get it, do you? It’s magic, Potter. The doors are only present when they are needed, she thought as she rolled her eyes.

Oh, yeah, thought Harry sheepishly. Trying to change the subject, he asked, Where does that door lead to? pointing at a door on the other wall.

Ginny grabbed his hand and led him through the door to show him their bedroom. It was dominated by a four poster bed, similar to the ones in the dorms, but larger to accommodate the couple. Ginny’s trunk was at the foot of the bed. It also held bedside tables on either side of the bed and a wardrobe.

This is nice, thought Harry. I’m going to enjoy coming here in the evenings.

Ginny then showed him the attached bathroom, which had a spacious claw foot tub and a separate shower stall. I’m sure that tub will come in handy after Quidditch practices, thought Ginny.

Or maybe after a duelling session in the Room of Requirement, agreed Harry.

They went back into the bedroom and Harry pulled Ginny toward him. And how was your first day back, Mrs Potter?

Fine, I guess. It’s nice to be called Mrs Potter again instead of Miss Weasley, like I have to be during the day. It felt really weird to be on the train without Ron or Hermione. But the hardest part was being away from you. I really became used to spending almost every moment with you during our honeymoon.

That was hard for me too. It was good that things were slow at the shop today, because I couldn’t keep focused on what I was supposed to do. Each time I wondered what you were doing, suddenly it was like I was you. It was a little disconcerting at first, but the more I did it, the more I liked it; it was almost as good as being with you. You’ll have to try it tomorrow. Speaking of tomorrow, you seem excited about it.

Yeah, it’s a little strange. I almost feel antsy, like I can’t wait for it to come. She pulled back and looked him in the face. I can sense the same feeling in you. Why is that?

Harry thought for a moment, his eyes narrowing. I don’t know. I expect tomorrow to be a slow day at the shop. Maybe I’m just reflecting your emotions?

That might be it. While we’ve shared emotions before, the strength of our sharing has increased so much that it’s almost like it’s new. We can worry about that tomorrow. But tonight we need to make up for all that time apart. Come here, Mr Potter.

As you wish, Mrs Potter.

**********

The next morning, the two newlyweds woke in each other’s arms in Ginny’s four poster bed. As Ginny left the bed and went to take her shower, Harry called, “Dobby!” Dobby was going to provide the transportation so that Harry and Ginny would travel back and forth between his flat in Hogsmeade when each of them had to travel away from their spouse. A few moments later, he heard a pop and the house-elf was right beside him. “What can Dobby do for the great Harry Potter?” asked the eager house-elf.

Harry’s face warmed at Dobby’s greeting. “Thanks for coming so quickly, Dobby. I have a request of you. Can you please not call me ‘the great Harry Potter’? Harry would be just fine.”

Dobby’s eyes grew with fear. “Oh, no, it would not be proper for Dobby to call Dobby’s master by his master’s first name.”

“Then, can you at least drop ‘the great’ part? I’m just a normal wizard.”

Dobby shook his head, retorting, “The great Harry Potter is not just a normal wizard. Harry Potter defeated Voldemort when Harry Potter was just a baby. Harry Potter has learned a lifetime of magic in just one year. Harry Potter cared enough about Dobby to free Dobby from Dobby’s bad master. Harry Potter came back from the dead. Harry Potter is indeed a great wizard!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Perhaps we can work out a compromise. I’ll agree to you calling me just Harry Potter if you don’t call me ‘great’. Words like that really upset me.”

Dobby dropped his head, saying, “Dobby is sorry. Dobby does not want to upset Harry Potter. Dobby will agree to not call Harry Potter ‘great,’ even though Harry Potter is great.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “Then, Dobby, can you take me back to my flat, please?”

“Most certainly, Master Harry Potter, sir. Dobby would love to do that.” Dobby grabbed his hand and Apparated Harry back to Hogsmeade.

“Thank you, Dobby.”

“Is there anything else that Master Potter is wishing? Dobby is willing to do anything for Dobby’s master.”

“No, Dobby; I just need to take a shower and get to work. Thanks for the offer, though. I’ll probably see you again tomorrow morning.”

He prepared for the day and opened up the shop with George’s help. Business was slow again, so Harry was daydreaming again about what Ginny was doing, seeing her at breakfast and then her first class, when he looked up and saw a wizard with almost white hair walking past the shop.

Malfoy! he thought. He’s been in hiding since that botched kidnapping attempt. He can’t be up to any good. “George, I have to do something. Cover for me.” And before George could respond, Harry had pulled his Invisibility Cloak over himself and was out the door, trailing the teen that had caused him so much aggravation. He muttered a Silencing Spell on his feet so that Malfoy wouldn’t hear his steps as he trailed him.

Malfoy led him on a very circuitous route that ended up at the abandoned shop front to which Malfoy had taken the kidnapped Harry months before. Harry slipped in the door behind Malfoy to find a Death Eater meeting.

“It’s about time you arrived, Malfoy! Where have you been?” demanded a man at the head of a long table that Harry did not recognize.

Draco bowed his head and said, “I apologize, sir. I had this strange feeling that I was being followed so I wanted to make sure that I lost anyone that was tailing me.”

“Alright. Just don’t let it happen again. Sit down so we can continue.” Draco complied while Harry stayed near the door so he could leave quickly if he was detected. “As I was saying, the plan is two pronged. First, we are going to attack here in Hogsmeade, primarily as a distraction to our primary goal, Hogwarts and capturing that Weasley bint. Macnair, Rowle, and Nott, you are to lead the offensive here in the village. Your effort is on creating a lot of damage in different areas, so that there will be multiple locations to protect. Hopefully, this will draw the faculty of Hogwarts away from the school as well the Order. Remember to spread out so that their attention is divided. You are to start the attack at 11:30.

“The Lestranges, Crabbe, Goyle, and Dolohov will leave directly after we are done here and hide along the pathway between the village and the school, watching for the faculty to join the battle. As soon as they pass by, you are to enter the school. The Hogsmeade attack is timed so that most of the students should be in the Great Hall for lunch when you attack. This should make it easier for you to capture the Weasley girl. Remember that our Lord wants her alive and undamaged, so be careful. But he doesn’t care what happens to the rest of the students, so you can have some fun with them,” he said with a grin that caused chills to travel up Harry’ spine.

“What does he want with that blood traitor, anyway?” asked one of the men on the right.

A tall thin man standing off to the side spoke up. “That does not concern you. The Dark Lord’s business is his own.” Harry recognized his face, but at first couldn’t place it. Then a memory of his first Quidditch match came to him. That must be Malfoy’s father.

After hearing some more last minute instructions given to the assembled Death Eaters, Harry snuck out behind one he didn’t recognize and ran as fast as he could back to the shop. George looked up when the door opened, seemingly on its own, and Harry pulled off his cloak. “George, you have to tell the Order! There is going to be an attack on Hogsmeade and Hogwarts later today, with the goal of capturing Ginny. Voldemort wants her for some reason. I am going to Hogwarts to get the students out. Ask the Order to come to protect Hogsmeade.” Harry raced up the stairs and concentrated for a moment, learning that Ginny was in Ancient Runes class, so he couldn’t Apparate to her. He sent a message to her through their link that she should try to leave class and go to McGonagall’s office. He then pulled out the Marauder’s Map and located Professor McGonagall, who was alone in her office. So, he pinched some Floo powder and threw it into his fireplace and yelled, “Hogwarts Headmistress office!”

As he stumbled out of McGonagall’s Floo, the Headmistress looked up at the noise and pulled her wand out and pointed it directly at Harry’s chest. “Who are you and what are you doing in my office?” she demanded.

Harry was confused for a moment, but then he realized his mistake. Harry put up his hands and said, “Professor, it’s me, Harry. Please, just end my Glamour Charm to prove it.”

She nodded and added, “Alright, but no quick movements.” She pointed her wand at him and said, “Finite Incantatem,” revealing his normal appearance.

“Sorry, Professor, I should have removed my disguise before barging into your office, but I was in a little bit of a hurry.”

“What is so urgent, Mr Potter?”

He quickly repeated what he had overheard that morning. “Is there a way we can evacuate the students as soon as possible? We need to move fast before they get here.”

“There is a secret tunnel that leads to a bluff beyond Hogsmeade; we can take them through and they should be well out of the way of any battles in the village. It was added over the summer since the tunnel to Hogsmeade was destroyed in the battle last spring.”

The Headmistress arose and started putting the plan in place. She contacted the faculty to arrange the evacuation while Harry, after reactivating his disguise, sought out Ginny mentally and sent a thought message to her to Apparate to him in McGonagall’s office. When she arrived, he explained all that was occurring, and Ginny went to her Head Girl duties, which was to assist Cadwallader, in getting the students out of the school.

The faculty gathered in the Headmistress’ office. “We have learned of a Death Eater plot to attack both Hogsmeade and Hogwarts today. The attack on Hogsmeade is …”

Professor Sinistra interrupted, pointing her wand at Harry, who had been trying to stand unobtrusively in the back of the room. “Who’s he?”

Professor McGonagall was caught by surprise, but recovered quickly. “This is Auror … what was your name again? I’m sorry, it has slipped my mind.”

Harry played along. “Auror Aaron Roberts,” he said as he strode to the front of the room, acting more confident than he felt.

“Of course,” Professor McGonagall said. “Auror Roberts was the one who informed me of the planned attack this morning. He has agreed to stay to assist us as we see fit.”

Sinistra’s eyes narrowed, her wand still pointed in his face. “You don’t look old enough to be an Auror.”

“I am part of the security for the village. I was working undercover. This isn’t my real appearance,” Harry explained tersely. He called up some of his magic, causing his aura to glow visibly. This was something the newlywed couple had experimented with during their honeymoon. They knew their auras would glow when they were passionate, but thought having the ability to make them visible on demand might come in handy if they needed to intimidate any Death Eaters, or perhaps a meddlesome older brother. “Now, if you would drop your wand,” he said, trying to sound as authoritative as possible, “we can let the Headmistress finish outlining her plans.”

The dark skinned professor dropped her wand. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, obviously cowed by Harry’s show of power.

Impressive improvisation, Mr Potter, Harry heard from Ginny, who had been listening through their Bond. That will allow you to continue to use this disguise at Fred and George’s.

“If I may continue,” said the Headmistress. “The attack on Hogsmeade is actually a smokescreen to cover up the real target, kidnapping one of our students. The Death Eaters are going to first attack the village around noon. They are expecting the faculty to leave the school and lend a hand in the battle. While we are occupied fighting, another group that will be hiding on the pathway between the school and the village will attack the school, as they expect it to be relatively vulnerable. But since we are aware of their plans, we can take appropriate action.

“I have already dispatched Miss Weasley and Mr Cadwallader to evacuate the students through the new tunnel that leads beyond Hogsmeade. Filius and Aurora, I would like you to go at once and help oversee the students.” After the two professors left, she continued. “Once the battle in Hogsmeade has started, we are going to proceed there as if to offer assistance.” She turned to Professor Sprout. “Pomona, I want you to be at the back of our group and keep an eye out for the Death Eaters who are waiting for us to pass before coming to the school. When we have given them enough time to arrive at the school, we will circle back and then ambush them from behind. Does everyone understand?” All the heads in the room were nodding when the door to the office opened, revealing Cadwallader and Ginny.

“The students have all been evacuated, Professor,” reported the Head Boy, sounding very self-important. “Professors Flitwick and Sinistra are there to supervise them.”

Reminds me of Percy, thought Harry grumpily. Is he always this much of a ponce?

Ginny struggled to suppress a giggle. You’re right; he is a lot like Percy. Don’t let him get to you. He just takes his position very seriously.

At that moment, a far off boom was heard. Professor McGonagall went over to her window, peering in the distance. “I see some smoke in the direction of Hogsmeade. The attack in Hogsmeade must have started.” She turned back to address those gathered in her office. “Faculty, it is time for us to head to Hogsmeade. Miss Weasley and Mr Cadwallader, I want you to stay here with Auror Roberts.”

“No, we want to come too,” protested Cadwallader. “We can help you!”

The Headmistress turned and sternly said to the Head Boy, “You will stay here and obey what Mr Roberts says. He can protect you if something goes awry with the plan.”

“But we don’t need minding, like we’re defenceless first years!” whinged the seventh-year boy. “Besides, he hardly looks any older than me.”

Harry resisted rolling his eyes, wishing he had picked a glamour with an older appearance, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to impersonate an Auror when he had cast the charm.

“Let me assure you, Mr Roberts is more than capable of protecting you.” She turned to Harry. "Auror Roberts, can I entrust these two students to your care?”

“Yes, Headmistress,” replied Harry. “I will protect them as if they were my family.”

Harry noticed a subtle smile on the professor’s face as she said, “I’m sure you will.”

McGonagall led the remaining faculty and left the school in order to keep up the ruse that they were unaware that the Hogsmeade attack was just a distraction. When they had left, Ginny asked Harry through their Bond, Do you have the Marauder’s Map?

Yes. Why?

We can use it to watch the professor’s progress as well as know when to expect the Death Eaters.

Good idea.

Harry pulled out the Marauder’s Map, whispered the password, and spread it out on Professor McGonagall’s desk.

As this was occurring, Cadwallader had gone to the window to learn what he could. “I can see the professors on the road to Hogsmeade and smoke over the village, but nothing else.” He turned back into the room. Seeing Ginny and Harry leaning over the desk, he asked, “What’s that?”

“A new Auror tool. It’s a map of Hogwarts, but it identifies the location of everyone in the castle or on the grounds.” He pointed at the professors’ names. “See, here are the professors.” He subtly placed his hand over the location of the Headmistress’ office as if he was just supporting his weight while leaning over the map. I would prefer to not have to explain the presence of ‘H. Potter’ on the map, he thought to Ginny.

Or ‘G. Potter,’ for that matter.

Harry smiled. Right. Hadn’t thought of that. Some movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He pointed and said, “Miss Weasley, look here! There’s a small group of students who are in the dungeons. I don’t recognize any of the names.”

Ginny pulled a parchment out of her robes and studied it, comparing it with the names on the Map. “They are first-years, four Gryffindors and three Hufflepuffs. They must have become lost and not been able to find their way to the evacuation point.”

“Maybe we can hide them somewhere,” suggested Cadwallader who was eyeing the Map a little enviously.

A light bulb went off in Harry’s mind. “I have another idea.” Harry mentally explained his plan to Ginny and her face grew a mischievous grin, showing she liked it. “I don’t see any evidence of the Death Eaters on the grounds yet, so we have some time. Miss Weasley and Mr Cadwallader, please retrieve the lost students and I’ll meet you in the Entrance Hall.”

As soon as they left, Harry called Dobby. When the house-elf arrived, he asked Dobby to get a box of supplies from the basement of the Weasleys’ shop and then headed to the Entrance Hall to rendezvous with Ginny and Alistair. While he was waiting, Dobby Apparated with the requested box.

When they arrived with the frightened first-year students, Ginny raised her arms. “Quiet, everyone! I know you are all scared, but we have a plan that will protect you. This is Auror Roberts. He is going to explain everything.”

Harry addressed the nine students. “I have brought some prototype weapons that we can use to fight off the evil wizards that are going to attack the castle. Are any of you Muggleborn?” Two first-years hesitantly, raised their hands. “Good, you probably recognize this,” holding up a paintball gun. “This is a Muggle toy called a paintball gun, and they shoot small balls filled with paint, like these,” pulling some out of the hopper, “that splatter when they hit a target and make a mess.” He demonstrated by shooting at the wall, eliciting some giggles from the students.

“We have modified them so that, instead of paint, they are filled with special potions that, on contact, will affect the person who is hit. Some will cause them to fall asleep, others will make them be dizzy, unable to talk, laugh uncontrollably, all sorts of different effects that will make them unable to fight. The different colours are different potions, but it’s not important which is which at this point. The other advantage they have is that they are non-magical. And because they are non-magical, they can travel through the common Shield Charms that wizards use. Because the attackers are all wizards who look down on Muggles, they would never expect a Muggle toy to be used as a weapon. And they also won’t expect a group of first-year students to be able to fight them off. The guns are really easy to use, just point them at your target and pull the trigger. Now, I’m going to give each of you one of these and I want you to practice a few times, shooting at targets around the hall here, like the walls or the suits of armour. Right now, the guns are filled with normal paintballs, but once you are done practicing, we will give you the potion-filled ones.”

One of the students raised her hand. “So, we will have weapons that can hurt them. What will protect us from being hurt by them?”

“Good question. We are going to move the bases of the suits of armour around so that they will create a wall for you to hide behind. But, even better, I, with the help of one of these older students, will cast a special shield charm that we can do that will allow the potionballs through, but no spells will be able to penetrate it.”

He turned to the Head Boy. “Mr Cadwallader, are you familiar with Protego Internos?” When he shook his head, Harry turned to Ginny. “Miss Weasley, how about you?”

As part of their practice with their new magical abilities on their honeymoon, the Potters had learned a modified shield spell that allowed them to suspend a wide shield between their wands that was just as strong as the shield that each of them could cast when their magic was combined. They had also learned, that with some effort, they could make it transparent, and thus, undetectable.

Ginny replied, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Miss Weasley and I will be on either side of the hall behind a suit of armour casting a shield between us so no spells can reach you. So, you will be perfectly safe. I promise.” He didn’t mention that the only spell the shield couldn’t stop was Avada Kedavra, but since they would be behind a stone wall, they would be protected from even that for a while. Harry figured that the battle would be over before any of the Death Eaters determined that there was an invisible shield up.

Over the next few minutes, the first years and Cadwallader practiced shooting, resulting in an interesting colour scheme on the walls and armour, with Harry providing helpful advice. He and Ginny levitated the stone plinths to form a makeshift fort, while Ginny kept an eye on the Map.

“Mr Roberts, the Death Eaters are approaching.”

“Okay, everyone. They are coming.” Cadwallader distributed the potionballs and Harry and Ginny Disillusioned themselves before each stood behind a suit of armour on either end of the temporary wall, waiting for the attackers.

As soon as the entrance doors opened, Ginny and Harry simultaneously shouted, “Protego Internos,” and the invisible, impenetrable shield formed in front of the students. About a dozen Death Eaters entered, with their wands drawn, looking warily for any resistance. They noticed with confusion the stone pedestals in the middle of the hall. “Fire!” yelled Harry and the rout was on. The first-years stood up as one and started shooting at the Death Eaters. Three were hit with paintballs and out of commission before the first spell was cast, and, in just a few minutes, the Entrance Hall was filled with sleeping, giggling, or retching wizards. Of the attackers, only Bellatrix Lestrange was smart enough to hide behind a suit of armour avoid the paintballs. Seeing that the battle was lost she ran away, but she was the only one to escape.

A few minutes later, all of the Death Eaters were unconscious and bound by magical ropes. Ginny knelt in front of one of the first-years and asked, “Miss Ferguson, could you collect their wands and give them to Auror Roberts, please?” The small dark-haired girl’s eyes bulged, but she nodded and then scurried off to complete her task. The rest of the students were all celebrating, giving each other slaps on the back and high fives, when the large doors opened again, revealing the faculty, wands drawn and ready for a fight.

The faculty members were all stunned with what they saw. The Headmistress strode over to Ginny and demanded, “Pot … Weasley, what happened here?” Professor McGonagall asked with a gaping mouth, almost revealing Ginny’s secret.

“Professor,” Ginny answered, “we discovered that some Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first-year students had managed to become lost in the dungeons and so they weren’t evacuated with the rest of the school. Auror Roberts here,” indicating Harry, “came up with a plan to use these experimental weapons, paintball guns, against the Death Eaters that were attacking the school.” Ginny explained how the paintball guns worked, including the various potions that they contained. “We taught the students how to use them quickly and when the Death Eaters entered the Entrance Hall, we attacked. Once the potions took effect, Auror Roberts, Cadwallader, and I restrained them. We did see one witch escape, but we captured the rest.”

Professor McGonagall was shocked. “Well done, all of you. Quick thinking, Auror Roberts.” She then took Harry away from the rest of the students and whispered, “Where did you get these ‘experimental’ weapons? Obviously not from the Auror office.”

Harry smiled. “Ron had the idea to develop them this spring. We gave the idea to the twins and they ran with it. This was the first time they were used in true battle conditions, but they worked surprisingly well,” replied Harry.

At that moment, Miss Ferguson arrived, her hands filled with the Death Eater wands. She reached out her arms, and said shyly, “Here, Mr Auror. Miss Weasley said I should give these to you.”

“Thank you, um, Ellie isn’t it?” said Harry. When she nodded mutely, he added, “Good shooting, Ellie. I think you took out two of those Death Eaters yourself.” The young girl beamed, and returned to her classmates with a definite spring in her step.

Ron and Hermione then entered the castle with smiles on their faces, though they both looked a little tired and their robes showed signs of a struggle. Professor McGonagall greeted them with, “Mr Weasley, I understand congratulations are in order. Your paintball idea was a smashing success!”

Ron’s face was filled with confusion. “How did you hear about that already? I was just coming to report how the rest of the battle in Hogsmeade went.”

Now it was the Professor’s turn to be confused. “You used paintball guns in Hogsmeade as well?”

Ron’s face showed even more confusion. “No, not paintball guns. The DA just used some of the paintball tactics to fight the Death Eaters.”

“And it worked wonderfully!” said Hermione. “Ron’s tactics totally confused the Death Eaters, who were used to one-on-one duelling, not combined efforts from a team. Harry really had a great idea to use those strategies.” She was about to hug Harry, who was still in disguise, when she realized her mistake. Her face suddenly turned down, and she said, “It’s too bad he wasn’t here to see it.”

Ron whispered to her, “Good acting, Hermione.” Noticing the new décor of the Great Hall, he asked, “Does that mean that you used the paintball guns here? Who used them? I only see a bunch of midgets.”

Hermione hit him on the shoulder. “They are not midgets; they are just first-years. We were that small at one time.”

Ginny then responded, “We taught the first-years how to use the guns and we managed to catch all but one of the Death Eaters who attacked.”

“Good show! I’m glad they worked so well,” said Ron, smiling.

The discussion was interrupted at that moment by the wheezing of Mr Filch as he approached the group. “Headmistress … are you … alright?” he asked as leaned over and rested his hands on his knees, gasping for air.

Professor McGonagall went over to him, leaning over to address him, and said, “I’m fine, but how are you? Why are you so out of breath?”

“I just ran … from Hagrid’s hut,” he panted. “That’s where … I hid during the… battle. I saw the … staff return from … Hogsmeade, and so I … hurried up here … as fast as I could.”

Professor McGonagall smiled at the caretaker. “There was no need for haste, Argus. As you can see, we have things well in hand,” she said, sweeping her arm around the Entrance Hall.

Filch stood upright and, for the first time, noticed the state of the Entrance Hall and his eyes. “Oh, dear Merlin! My hall! Who did this?!” Seeing the first-years, all still holding their paintball guns, he pointed his finger at them. “You firsties!! You did this!” He turned to McGonagall, pleading, “Please, ma’am, take fifty points from each of them and let me have at ‘em. That’s the only way they’ll learn: hard work!” He turned back to the students, who were huddling together, a little frightened that they would be punished harshly on their first day at school. “I’ll have you all in detention for a month, cleaning this mess and without magic! And when you’re done here, I’ll have you polishing every trophy, every suit of armour, every wall sconce in this castle, until they are spotless and shining! Yes, I will, and then you’ll think twice the next time you consider messing with my castle!”

“Mr Filch!” exclaimed Professor McGonagall. “You will do no such thing! These first-years were acting under the direction of Auror Roberts and they will not be punished and no points will be taken.” She then addressed the students, “Instead, both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff will receive fifty points for these students’ efforts. Well done, all of you!” She turned back to the caretaker and said gruffly, “Mr Filch, I would suggest you get to work.”

Filch’s shoulders drooped as he turned to leave. Harry and Ginny suppressed giggles when they heard him grumbling under his breath as he passed them, “Never had to break into my stockpile of Mrs Skower’s All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover so early in the school year. I’ll never be able to get this all cleaned up.”

A/N: Thanks to Arnel for the wonderful ending of this chapter. It was totally her idea.

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Chapter 46: The Power He Knows Not

The Power He Knows Not

In a large, dark room, the Dark Lord sat on a throne, holding his wand in his right hand, caressing it lightly with his left. Before him, Lucius and Draco Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange knelt, their heads bowed. They had been in this position since he they reported about the assault on Hogwarts. Voldemort stared at them from his red rimmed eyes, making them more and more anxious as they awaited their fate.

After another minute, he demanded, “Can any of you explain how this attack became such a fiasco? After all, you three are the only ones who returned.”

The three looked nervously towards each other. Lucius was the first to gain control of his voice. “My Lord, they must have known we were coming. The Order was waiting for us in Hogsmeade before we even started attacking. They were hidden all around the village and had three wizards for every one of ours. The only logical explanation is that they must have a spy in our midst.”

Bellatrix lifted her head. “They were expecting us as well, my Lord. I estimate at least twenty Aurors must have been present hidden behind a barricade they had erected right in the Entrance Hall. They used some type of weapon I have never seen. These small projectiles flew right through our shields and caused all sorts of strange effects when they struck.”

“How did you escape, then?” asked Voldemort.

“I was barely able to avoid being hit by jumping behind a suit of armour. I left as quickly as I could when I realized that we had no chance to achieve our target.”

Voldemort raised his wand, yelling, “ Crucio! ” Bellatrix fell to the ground writhing in pain. After a few moments, he lifted the spell. “Bellatrix, that is to remind you that I will accept neither failure nor retreat. You are dismissed.”

The dark-haired witch slowly arose from the floor, moving in noticeable pain, and left the room as quickly as she could.

When the door had closed behind her, “And you, Draco, how did you manage to return here?” asked Voldemort.

Draco swallowed nervously, sweat pouring down his face. “When it became obvious that we were outnumbered, Father and I Apparated away.”

“I am forced to teach you the same lesson as your aunt, Draco. Crucio! ” Voldemort held the spell until he was certain his message had been communicated and then lifted the spell. “Draco, please stand off to the right. I have business with your father, but I want you to hear what I have to say.” Draco staggered over to the ordered location.

“Lucius, is my new base ready?”

“Yes, my Lord. All is prepared as you have asked.”

“Since you are concerned that we have a spy, is there any chance that the Order has learned of its location?”

“No, my Lord. Only Draco and I know where it is. Draco has been a great help at readying it to your specifications.”

“What about the contents of the prophecy? Does anyone else know of it?”

“I have told no one. Of course, Bellatrix knows, as she was present when you told me.”

“Draco does not know?”

“No, he does not.”

“Then, I guess I will have to inform him myself. I have decided that he will be the one to fulfil it.”

Lucius’ eyes opened wide. “That surprises me, my Lord. I had assumed that you would be the one to which it refers.”

“Unfortunately, I have determined that I am, shall we say, unable to perform the tasks required.” He looked to his right at the teen standing in the background. “However, I am sure that young Draco will be able to complete them for me.” Draco gulped under the strong gaze of the Dark Lord.

“But, my Lord,” Lucius protested, “Draco does not meet all the criteria.”

Voldemort smiled evilly. “No, he doesn’t at this moment, but I plan to rectify that now.”

After a moment, Lucius’ face contorted in fear. “No, please, my Lord! I have been your most devoted and loyal servant! Please!”

“You are correct, Lucius, you have been very faithful in your service. Just think of this as the ultimate display of your loyalty to me. Avada Kedavra!

“Father!” screamed Draco, taking a step forward.

Voldemort swiftly turned his wand on Draco. “Stay where you are, Draco.”

Draco stopped immediately, his face white with fear. Voldemort waved his wand and said, “ Evanesco,” and the body of the elder Malfoy vanished. Another wave of his wand conjured a chair in front of Voldemort’s throne. “Come, Draco, sit. I have much to tell you about the part you will play in the coming weeks.”

**********

“So, how was your first real day of lessons?” asked Harry after greeting his wife late the next evening.

“Okay.” At Harry’s questioning look, she added, “The lessons were fine. I just felt short-tempered all day, but I had no reason to be grumpy.” She snuggled up into Harry’s chest. “I slept well last night, we both did,” she said with a smirk, “and nothing went wrong. I don’t understand it. It was like I was hormonal, but it’s not my time.”

Harry reddened a little at Ginny’s comment. “Hmm,” said Harry. “I felt the same way. When the few customers that did come in the shop came to the counter, I felt like they were bothering me, as if they were interrupting me, even though I wasn’t doing anything.”

“We know you’re not hormonal,” joked Ginny.

He hugged her and kissed her forehead, “At least not that kind of hormonal,” he said suggestively. He pulled her close and kissed her more passionately, running one of his hands through her hair.

They separated when they heard an insistent knock on her door. “Quick,” she whispered, “go back into the bedroom.” She smoothed her hair and opened the door.

“Is he here yet?” asked Lydia, who barged in before Ginny could ask her in and was searching the room.

Ginny chuckled. “Hello, Lydia. Won’t you come in?”

Harry, hearing Lydia’s voice, cracked open the door to make sure she was alone. Lydia turned quickly when she heard the creak of the door and yelled, “Harry!” She ran over, pushing the door open and jumped into his arms, giving him a huge hug.

“Hey, Pipsqueak, long time, no see,” said Harry, obviously happy to see his ‘little sister.”

Lydia released him from her hug and glared at him, her hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know I grew three inches this summer!”

Harry laughed. “Alright, no more ‘Pipsqueak,’ I promise,” putting his arm around her. “How have you been? We haven’t seen you since the wedding.”

“I know. It was driving me crazy not to be able to ask Ginny any questions about you or your honeymoon on the Hogwarts Express.”

“I noticed that you seemed perturbed,” said Harry.

Lydia’s eyes widened as she turned to face him. “You were there? Were you wearing your cloak? Why didn’t you at least let me know?”

Harry and Ginny both chuckled. “No, I wasn’t there,” explained Harry. “As part of our completed Bond, we can now share senses. So, I was able to sort of eavesdrop on Ginny during the train ride.”

Lydia grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him down to sit with her on the sofa. “So, you two, tell me about your honeymoon.” She turned to Ginny, patting the seat next to her. “Where did he take you? Was it romantic?”

Ginny smiled at the younger girl’s enthusiasm as she sat down. “He took me to a cabin by a lake in the woods that his family used to go to when he was growing up. Yes, it was romantic. We were the only ones around and we were able to relax on the beach, cook food by a campfire, and just enjoy being together.”

Lydia stared back at Ginny dreamily. “It sounds wonderful. Wish I had someone who would treat me like that.”

“Perhaps someday, Lydia. You are only fourteen, after all,” said Ginny.

Harry nudged her in the side. “Any candidates for that snogging partner that we talked about last year?” he teased.

Lydia turned her face down, hiding the redness that was showing on her cheeks. “Maybe,” she said quietly.

“Who is it?” asked Harry.

“Gavin Poynter. He’s a fifth-year Ravenclaw.”

“He’s a prefect,” said Ginny. “He seems like a nice boy.” She leaned toward Lydia and whispered, “And cute, too.”

Lydia covered her mouth and giggled a little. “Yeah,” she said, her voice sounding dreamy again. Then her face changed, becoming more downcast. “But I don’t think he knows I even exist.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Ginny, a knowing smile on her face. “I was having lunch today with Luna at the Ravenclaw table and I overheard him talking with some of his friends, discussing Ravenclaw’s Quidditch prospects for the year. They were debating whether anyone would have a chance against Gryffindor. Gavin said that Gryffindor would win easily, since we had two Chasers and both Beaters returning. His friend countered that we had to replace two players that were offered professional contracts, so there were some big holes to fill. Gavin then said, ‘But their reserve Seeker embarrassed Corner last year, and this year we don’t have anyone as good as Corner was. I don’t think we have a chance against her.’”

Lydia’s face lit up. “He really said that? About me?”

“He did,” Ginny reassured her. “But that wasn’t all I heard,” she added as she smiled and lifted her eyebrows. “His friend then teased him and asked, ‘Do you still think she’s cute?’ He tried to deny it, but his friend replied, ‘You know that you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her during that match.’ He turned red and said, ‘She did look pretty good up there on that Harpy Edition.’”

Lydia was practically jumping up and down in her seat. “He thinks I’m cute?! For real? You’re not just taking the mickey on me?”

Ginny smiled. “I’m serious, that’s what he said.”

“You’re not Sirius; he’s back at Grimmauld Place,” Lydia said with a straight face.

Both Harry and Ginny groaned. “Now, he has you making horrible puns on his name, too,” lamented Harry. “Are you going to start pulling pranks, now also?”

Lydia grinned cheekily and said, “You never know.” She turned back to Ginny, gripping her forearm, and asked, “Now, what do I do? I can’t exactly just go up and talk to him. I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“I have an idea,” said Ginny with a sly smile. “How about if you sit with me and Luna at a meal sometime, maybe this weekend? We’ll try to sit near Gavin again and you could say something to me about Quidditch. Maybe ask about how Ron’s doing in with the Bats and how well I think they’ll do. Nothing like a Quidditch conversation to get a boy to notice you,” she said with a wink. “If we’re lucky, he’ll join in the discussion.”

“You’d do that for me? Oh, thank you, Ginny!” Lydia exclaimed as she hugged her.

“You’re welcome. After all, if you are Harry’s ‘little sister,’ you’re my little sister, too.”

While the discussion turned to what Lydia should wear that day and if she should do something different with her hair, Harry just leaned back and put his arms behind his head, watching his beautiful wife talk animatedly with his friend and feeling pride bubble up through his chest. She is an amazing witch, he thought. I still don’t know how I could be so fortunate to find her. I love her so much.

Ginny looked up for a moment from her conversation with Lydia, and thought, Right back at you, Potter, followed with a wink before returning to the topic of whether Lydia should wear makeup that day.

***********

“Thank you for meeting with me; I have been looking forward to working with you two.” The first Saturday of the term found Harry and Ginny in the Room of Requirement with Professor McGonagall. “Advanced Transfiguration, while underappreciated can be a very useful skill in duelling.”

Both teens were a little surprised at this. “I’ve never heard of using Transfiguration in duels,” said Ginny.

“That is not totally true; most people don’t realize they are using some Transfiguration spells while fighting. For instance, Incarcerous is in actuality conjuring ropes, but since it is generally taught in Defence and not Transfiguration, we don’t think of it that way. Another reason it is not used that often is because most witches and wizards don’t have the power and speed to use Transfiguration in a fight. However, seeing a master use Transfiguration can be amazing. Albus …” she hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath. “Professor Dumbledore was especially skilled at it. You may not have known this but before he was Headmaster, he taught Transfiguration; he was my professor in school. Anyway, Transfiguration was one of his main weapons in his famous duel with Grindelwald. Since you two are so powerful, I believe that you could make good use of these skills.”

“Can you give us some examples of how it could help us?” Ginny asked.

“If you think of the skills you have learned over the years in my class, many of them can be adapted to duelling, just on a bigger scale. For example, you learned how to animate a teacup. Imagine animating a large piece of furniture. Yes, it can be destroyed by a Reductor Curse, but that takes time and may distract your opponent enough to let you hit them with another spell.”

Ginny smirked. “My brothers would often ‘table joust’ when setting up for meals outdoors at the Burrow, at least until my mum yelled at them to stop. I never thought of using that in a real fight.”

“You also learned to transfigure inanimate objects into small animals. Think about what could happen if you created a lion or tiger instead of a mouse. Again, your opponent will have to deal with the new threat. The main problem with wild animals is that unless you place an Imperius Curse on them, they are wild and unpredictable, so you need to be on your guard that they don’t come back and bite you.”

The couple nodded their understanding. “Can you transfigure a large snake?” asked Harry.

“Yes, there is a specific conjuration spell, Serpensortia, that can create a snake out of your wand. The type of snake hinges on what species you are thinking of and the size depends on the power you put behind the spell. Why do you ask?”

“We recently discovered that we are Parselmouths. We think that I received the ability when Voldemort gave me the scar and that Ginny’s ability is left over from when she was possessed by him her first year. Perhaps we could use this spell and then we could tell the snake what we wanted it to do. That way we wouldn’t have to worry about a wild animal attacking us.”

“Excellent idea, Mr Potter. We will work on that in the future. But for today’s lesson, I want to start with a question. What is the difference between transfiguration and conjuration?”

Harry, whose education had been light on magical theory, decided not to risk sounding unwise and remained quiet, allowing his wife to answer. “Transfiguration is changing one object to another, while conjuration is creating something out of nothing.”

“Correct, at least mostly, Mrs Potter. Mr Potter, which takes more magical energy, and why?”

Harry hesitated a moment. “In my experience, transfiguration takes less concentration than conjuration, so I guess that suggests that it takes less energy.” He paused, considering the next part of his answer, emulating his father. “It is logical that changing something takes a lot less energy than creating something. There was a Muggle scientist who conceived a formula that discussed that. He said that E=mc2, the ‘E’ standing for energy, the ‘m’ for mass, and the ‘c’ for the speed of light, which is a huge number. When he came up with the formula, he was basically saying that if matter is destroyed, it would release a massive amount of energy. But, logically, the opposite would be true; to create matter it would take a lot of energy. While I know that magic doesn’t always follow the rules I learned in physics class, my premise about the wave theory of spells suggested that perhaps a working knowledge of physics could help explain some of the theory behind magic.”

The Headmistress considered what he said. “Interesting. Once this war is done and we can reveal that you are indeed alive, I think that you should definitely investigate the joint fellowship with the Department of Mysteries and Oxford. You have some excellent ideas on magical theory, despite having little education on the subject.

“If I understand you correctly, science suggests that creating something out of nothing requires a lot of energy.” When Harry nodded, she continued. “While that most likely is true, conjuration is actually not creating something out of nothing, despite what many believe. In actuality, conjuration takes small pieces of matter from the environment, too small to see, and brings them together to make a new object. These small pieces of matter are called atoms by Muggles, Mrs Potter. But doing this does take much more magical energy than it does to change something into something else. It also helps explain why transfiguration of objects that are of similar size is easier than transfiguration of a large object from a smaller object, which is actually part transfiguration and part conjuration.

“Now, while discussing all this theory can be intellectually stimulating and I am sure that Miss Granger is going to be envious that she missed it,” she smirked, “what does this have to do with duelling?” She gave her students a few moments to think about it before answering her own question. “In a duel, it can be important to conserve your magical energy. While the two of you have much more power than possibly anyone in Britain, your past fights with Riddle have suggested that his power level is on a par with yours, so conserving energy may be essential for you to win. So, today we are going to focus on rapid transfiguration. I have asked the Room of Requirement to provide us a room with a lot of random objects that you can use to transfigure in a duel.”

Two hours later, Ginny trudged back to the Head Girl Suite, dripping with sweat and her robes dirty and wrinkled.

“Ginny, what happened to you?” asked Demelza, who she had run into just outside of the portrait hole.

Ginny sighed. “Supplementary Transfiguration work with Professor McGonagall. Because of the Death Eater attack, she wants to spend some extra time with me to make sure I can protect myself.” While most of the school was unaware that she had been the target of the Death Eater attack, she had shared that fact with a few of her closest friends.

Demelza chuckled. “Better you than me, if you look like that after a session with her. You look more tired than you do after a Quidditch practice.”

“I am more knackered than after Quidditch. I feel drained both physically and magically.”

“Make sure you get a shower before dinner,” Demelza teased, waving her hand in front of her nose. “You smell a little ripe.”

“Thanks, I was planning on it,” Ginny grumbled. She walked a few more steps before saying the password to her suite, “Mud Hens,” which was the mascot of the baseball team Harry had taken her to see on their honeymoon. The door swung open and she barely made it to the sofa before collapsing. A moment later, Harry appeared next to her.

“Not fair,” groused Ginny. “I had to walk all the way back here, and you get to Apparate.”

Harry grinned. “I would have been happy to walk back, but I don’t think we would want to explain why I was alive to any students that might see me in the corridors.”

“I know, but it’s still not fair.”

“Can I try to make it up to you?” asked Harry.

Ginny raised her eyebrow suspiciously. “What do you have in mind?”

Harry stood up and said, “You stay here and rest. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Ginny watched as he headed for her bedroom. Just before he closed the door, he looked back and said, “And no peeking, including mentally.”

Ginny picked up a copy of Witch Weekly to distract her from sensing Harry’s thoughts. Oliver Wood, former Keeper for Gryffindor and current professional Quidditch star, graced the cover as this year’s Most Eligible Bachelor. A few moments later, Harry returned. He came over and picked her up behind her back and under her legs.

“What are you doing, Harry?”

“Patience, my dear, patience.”

He carried her through her bedroom and into the bathroom, which was dimly lit with several candles floating in the air. The claw foot bathtub was filled with steaming water and bubbles. Ginny, delighted with his surprise, sat up a little and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Harry; it’s exactly what I need. How did you know?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I can feel every ache in your body, you know.” He set her down on her feet. “Now, should I leave you to enjoy your soak, or would you like some help getting out of those robes?”

Ginny stood on her tiptoes and put her arms around Harry’s neck, kissing him. Read my mind, Mr Potter.

**********

September 10th, 1998

Dear Aaron,

I hope your freshman year at college is going well. We have returned to Scotland, and Ginny is back in school. During the day, she attends lessons while I work at a shop in the nearby village. Her twin brothers own two magical joke shops and they have allowed me to work for them to give me something to do. It’s not very busy, but it does take my mind off of missing Ginny. We have learned that we can eavesdrop on each other through our Soul Bond, experiencing what the other one is doing, so sometimes I listen in on her classes.

Her favourite class this year is Transfiguration, what I called Matter Transformation in my letters last year. In this class she learns how to change something into something else, like when we turned a waffle into a gerbil for you and your parents. She is also taking Charms where she learns all types of spells; Arithmancy, sort of magical math; Ancient Runes, which studies magical symbols; and Potions, which is exactly what it sounds like. I didn’t take Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, so I am actually learning quite a bit from those. I thought I would be lost, since she has been taking them for four years, but somehow our Bond allows me to learn what she already knows. Her last class is Muggle Studies. Muggles are what magical people call non-magical people. She is supposed to be learning about Muggle culture and how they make do without magic, but, based on what she is being taught, I’m not sure if the professor has ever even seen a Muggle, nonetheless lived with them. Some of her ideas are downright hilarious. Last week she said that Muggles collect electricity by flying kites in thunderstorms. There is one additional course that she isn’t taking, Defence Against the Dark Arts, because the Headmistress stated that she already was far beyond what the course teaches, and that she would be better off continuing to learn from the tutor I had last year.

The other reason Ginny was not taking Defence was the change in teacher. Snape had been scheduled to teach Defence again, but apparently the curse on the position was still in place. A few days before the term was to start, the new Minister had “requested” that Snape take a position in the new Ministry. When the Headmistress protested at the last minute change, the Minister had “helped” by appointing Amycus Carrow as the new Defence instructor, as well as Liaison to the Minister, and the Headmistress had not been able to block the appointment. McGonagall had then advised her upper level Gryffindors that she would not recommend taking Defence, as she was concerned about his teaching methods. Ginny had heard rumours from classmates from other houses that they had been assigned a different class than the Slytherins. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were taught nothing of value while the Slytherins instead were being taught Dark Arts, not the Defence of such. She had also heard that occasionally when a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw complained, they were punished by having to attend class with the Slytherins. When they returned from their punishment, they looked pale and tired, but they could not relate exactly what their punishment had been. Ginny suspected that memory charms were being used, but she could not prove it. Professor McGonagall, despite being Headmistress, had her hands tied in investigating this because of the power given Carrow by the Minister.

I’m really happy that you now know about magic. It’s nice being able to write the truth to you about my life and not to have to edit my letters to remove all mention of magic. Sometimes last year, I really struggled with how to keep you informed without outright lying to you. I’m sorry again about that.

After work I hang out in my flat above the shop. Sometimes I have dinner with one of the twins or with Ginny’s parents. In the evenings, she studies or performs school duties. She is Head Girl this year, which is sort of like the president of the senior class. She has to supervise the other student leaders, organize patrols, and be available to help the younger students. While it is a lot of work, there is one major perk. Because of her position, the Headmistress has allowed her to have a special suite, so I can spend most nights with her.

We had a little excitement the first day back at school. Some wizards and witches who follow Voldemort attacked the school, but Ginny and I, with the help of some first-year students, were able to repel them. You’ll laugh when you hear what we used as weapons! Paintball guns! My best mate, Ron, had the idea of putting magical potions in the paint balls instead of normal paint so that as soon as your opponent is hit with one, he falls asleep, passes out, or giggles uncontrollably.

That’s all that is occurring here. Write back and let me know how college is.

Brook

**********

“I just don’t understand it; this should be working! You seem to be doing everything the way the book says,” said an exasperated Hermione.

A few weeks after the unsuccessful attack on Hogwarts, Harry and Ginny were in the Room of Requirement with Hermione, working on casting Aufero Malum. She had acquired a cursed music box from Grimmauld place that had been stored in the attic for safe keeping when they had cleaned it out to use for Order Headquarters. The music box, when opened played music that caused an effect similar to the Imperius Curse and put the hearer in a very suggestive state. Various members of the Order had tried to remove the curse without success but she had hoped that Ginny and Harry could remove it with their spell. Everything worked exactly the way the book said it should. As the pair touched their wand tips together they said, “ Aufero Malum” and a white light emanated from the wands and struck the music box, but each time, Hermione did a diagnostic spell and determined that the curse was still present.

“Maybe we have the em-phas-is on the wrong syl-la-ble,” joked Harry.

“It’s not funny, Harry,” spat back Hermione. “If you were saying it wrong, there wouldn’t be any effect.”

“Sorry, Hermione, we’ve been working on this so long, I’m getting a little punchy.”

“And I’m getting a little testy. I’m sorry too,” replied Hermione with a sigh.

“Maybe we should take a break,” said Ginny. “Can I see your translations, Hermione? Perhaps a different set of eyes will see something different.”

Harry collapsed on a sofa and Ginny laid down between his legs, her back to his chest, with Hermione’s notes. Harry read over Ginny’s shoulder as they reviewed the notes while Hermione pulled out the original book to see if there were any other ways to translate the runes. After a while, Hermione heard slow breathing coming from the sofa and, when she looked, saw that Harry and Ginny had both fallen asleep. As she looked at her two best friends, she pushed back a pang of jealousy. She hadn’t seen Ron for two weeks; between their schedules there had just not been time. She looked at her watch, realizing that Ron should have just finished Quidditch practice. Time to surprise my fiancé! she thought and jumped up. She wrote a short note to Harry and Ginny and left quickly, going to Headmistress McGonagall’s office to take the Floo to Ballycastle.

Ginny slowly awoke and snuggled into Harry’s arms, revelling in the chance to just be with him on a lazy Saturday afternoon. As she wakened fully, she had a feeling that there was an idea at the back of her mind that had occurred to her shortly before falling asleep, but try as hard as she could, it just wouldn’t come to her.

**********

“So, how was your ‘vacation,’ Aaron? Find what you were looking for?” asked Fred.

Harry, in his surfer dude disguise, had just opened the shop for the day when one of his bosses arrived, checking on the shop. “No, we couldn’t find even a hint of what we were looking for.”

Harry, Sirius, Remus, and Bill had just spent the last week in Albania, trying to find information on Voldemort’s soul receptacle. They had searched forests, pubs, Wizarding villages, caves, and even a giant enclave, but could not unearth even one indication where he might have hidden the vessel.

“Well, considering that the trip was a bust, you look awfully happy,” Fred teased, noticing the goofy grin on Harry’s face.

He had returned late last evening, and Ginny made sure he knew how much she had missed him. “I did receive a nice welcome home last night from my wife,” he said with a smirk.

“That’s all I want to hear about that, mate.” He looked around the shop, and then cast a Silencing Charm before urging, “Come on, tell me about your trip.”

As Harry began, he held up a hand. “Wait, Ginny’s just arrived at an Order meeting and I want to listen in. I’ll fill you in when they are done.” Harry tuned his senses to his wife’s as she entered the dining room at Grimmauld Place.

“Sorry we’re late; Professor Slughorn kept Miss Weasley after Potions today.” Professor McGonagall and Ginny had just taken the Floo from Hogwarts to Grimmauld Place for a partial meeting of the Order. Professor Flitwick, Sirius, and Snape were all waiting.

“Yeah, he’s trying to make sure that I’m one of his ‘Slug Club,’” grumbled Ginny. But then her face brightened as she added, “He did offer to introduce me to Gwenog Jones, though, to give me a leg up on making the Harpies next year.”

Snape snorted, causing the heads in the room to turn to him. “As much as we all care about your Quidditch career, Miss Weasley, can we please get started?” insisted Snape. “I have other things to do today.”

Professor McGonagall bit off a retort, but instead said, “You are right, Severus. We all have busy schedules. Do you have anything to report? How is your role at the Ministry going?”

Before he could answer, Hermione asked, “Excuse me, Professor, but could you tell us exactly what you are doing there? I’ve only heard bits and pieces.”

Snape closed his eyes and sighed before sneering at Hermione. “If you must know, Miss Granger, I am serving on the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. I have been ordered to assist Senior Undersecretary Umbridge in her interrogations. I provide her with Veritaserum or other potions as needed.”

Hermione was outraged and stood up, pointing her wand at Snape. “How dare you?! How can you help something so, so, bigoted and intolerant?” Her face was bright red and she looked like she wanted to hex her former professor.

“Calm down, Miss Granger,” said Professor McGonagall.

“Why should I?! I have heard rumours of what they are doing. Umbridge is accusing people of stealing magic from pure-bloods, resulting in an increase in Squibs. How ridiculous! You can’t steal magic. If I wasn't employed by the Department of Mysteries, I might already have been called in before them.”

“Sit down, Miss Granger, and Severus will explain,” said Professor McGonagall. Ginny put a hand on her forearm, urging her to listen to him. Hermione took a deep breath and sat down.

“As I said, before I was interrupted,” said Snape, obviously perturbed, “I am providing her with potions, but I am not providing her with full strength Veritaserum, so most of those being interrogated are able to overcome its effects. There is just enough of the ingredients to cause a little of the dazed effect. I also provide healing potions when the interrogations become physical, unbeknownst to Secretary Umbridge. If you had been paying attention to what was going on at the Ministry, you would have known that most of the people who are brought before the Commission have been released because they actually have some relative that is magical. The Minister is actually unsatisfied with the outcomes and I have heard rumours that he may sack Umbridge shortly.”

Hermione’s head turned down. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have leapt to the wrong conclusions.”

Professor McGonagall then took the floor again. “Severus, have you learned the reason why Voldemort attempted to kidnap Miss Weasley at the beginning of the term?”

“No, he has not shared his reasons with anyone as far as I am aware. He is, however, preparing another secret location that Lucius Malfoy found for him. Only Malfoy knew where it is.”

“Knew?” asked Sirius.

“Yes,” responded Snape. “Apparently, Voldemort was unhappy with Lucius’ performance during the attack on Hogsmeade because Voldemort killed him that evening.”

Gasps could be heard around the table. Snape continued, “For some reason, Voldemort has taken Draco under his wing and is working with him behind closed doors. No one knows what they are planning.”

“Keep your ears open. Thank you for your help.” She turned to Sirius. “Sirius, what do you have to report concerning your trip to Albania?”

Sirius quickly summarized their trip, which was unproductive.

“So, we are basically back to square one in finding the object in which Voldemort has hidden part of his soul,” said McGonagall. “Severus, has the Dark Lord said anything that might be a clue as to where he has hidden it?”

Snape sneered. “We have already discussed this to death. No, he hasn’t. If I had known Black had nothing to report, I would not have come.” He stood to leave, saying, “I have to get back to Malfoy Manor; Voldemort is very insistent that I be available to attend him.”

“Why do you need to ‘attend him’?” asked Ginny.

“Why should I tell you?” Snape spat out, contempt in his voice. “You shouldn’t even be here. You’re just a silly school girl who should have stayed at Hogwarts.”

“Severus, please be polite,” said an exasperated McGonagall. “We’ve talked about this before. Miss Weasley is intimately involved in this, especially since she is Voldemort’s prime target currently. Please answer her question. I know she is not the only one here interested in your response.”

Snape sat back down. “The reason that things have been relatively quiet over the last six weeks is that Voldemort has been ill and no one can figure out what is wrong with him. All of his energies are focused currently on this ailment. He had two Healers from St. Mungo’s kidnapped, but they failed to find any answers either. Since they couldn’t help him, he thinks that somehow he has been cursed. He has me brewing different potions to alleviate his symptoms as well as researching Dark curses that could be causing the problem.”

“What are his symptoms?” asked Flitwick.

“He has these episodes of severe pain that last a relatively short time, always less than an hour, but then he is so fatigued afterwards that he has difficulty doing anything but sleep for hours. The first time, his screaming was so loud that he woke up everyone staying at the Manor and we thought that there might be an earthquake because the whole building was shaking. He admitted to the Healers that the pain is worse than the Cruciatus. As a matter of fact, the first time, he thought that perhaps someone under a Disillusionment Spell or an invisibility cloak must have been using the Cruciatus on him. Unlike that curse, he isn’t developing any tolerance to the pain for its severity is not lessening. Pain potions don’t help prevent the symptoms or speed the recovery afterwards either. He has a permanent Silencing Charm on his bed chamber, but the house still trembles whenever he has one of these episodes, so we all know about it. Of course, no one talks about it in his presence, but there is a lot of whispering behind his back, wondering if he is dying or something.”

“How long has this been going on? And how often are these spells?” asked Hermione.

“It started in the middle of August. For the next few weeks, they would happen seemingly at random, sometimes several times per day. Since the first of September, he has improved a little in that the episodes have been less frequent, occurring more days than not, but rarely more than once a day. He had one time, about three weeks ago when he didn‘t have any episodes for about three days, and then, this past week, he thought the treatment of the second healer was working because he had no problems for eight days, but then last night they came back multiple times. That Healer was tortured to death this morning because of his failure,” Snape added.

Ginny sent a message to Harry through their link, Are you listening to this?

Yeah.

I think I am seeing a pattern; let’s see if you agree.

Harry detected a trace of amusement coming through in addition to the message. What’s so funny?

Just pay attention. If I’m right, you’ll see.

Hermione continued in her questions. “When exactly did this start? Did he do anything abnormal or see anyone shortly before this started?”

“Why are you asking all these questions, Granger? You’re certainly not thinking of helping the Dark Lord, are you?”

“No, of course not,” Hermione answered back, irritated. “But if I can figure out what is wrong with him, then maybe we can take advantage of it. And I do have the most extensive magical library in Britain at my disposal in the Department of Mysteries. The more information I have, the more likely I’ll be to find the curse or whatever it is in the collection.” She waited a few seconds for this to sink in and then re-asked her questions.

Snape thought for a moment. “As I recall, the first episode was a Saturday evening in middle of August. I can’t think of anything different in the week before the first attack. He was planning the invasion of Hogwarts to capture Miss Weasley, but he had delegated that to Malfoy and the Lestranges by then.”

“And you say that for about two weeks he would have multiple occurrences a day and then since then for the most part he is only having them daily?”

“Actually, they seem to be only occurring at night recently. Except for occasionally on the weekends during the day.”

Harry detected even more amusement coming from Ginny as she was trying to suppress a giggle. What is it, Ginny?

Think, Harry. What happened on a Saturday in the middle of August that could affect Voldemort?

You’ve lost me.

Oh, how quickly you forget. Is this the way it’s going to be, Potter?

What are you talking about?

Maybe I’ll just have to remind you. Now Harry sensed mischief through their Bond before receiving a memory from Ginny.

Ginny! I’m trying to work here, and right next to one of your brothers, too! Harry called over to Fred, who was with a customer, “Fred, can you cover the register for a moment? I need to use the loo.”

“Sure.” As he walked around the counter, Fred asked, “You alright, there, Aaron? All of a sudden you’re all red and sweaty.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine in a moment,” he replied as he hurried to the back room. When he was behind closed doors, Okay, Ginny, not that I mind being reminded of our honeymoon, but what has that to do with Voldemort?

Think, Harry. His first attack was on a Saturday in the middle of August, followed by two weeks of multiple episodes a day. Then, since the first of September, he has been having them almost every night.

Harry gasped. You don’t think?

I do think. It would even go along with the Prophecy. You know, the ‘power he knows not.’ Let me confirm my suspicions. Ginny cleared her voice. “Professor Snape, you said that he didn’t have any of these episodes for about a week (while you were in Albania she added to Harry) but they came back again last night. Can you tell me exactly what times last night?”

“Why would that matter?”

“Just trying to help Hermione figure it out, sir.”

“Okay. Last night, the first attack was about … maybe 10:00 or 10:30. Then, no problems overnight, but this morning one occurred during breakfast, at 7:00 and then again about half an hour later.”

“I see. That is helpful.” Harry, that has to be it! Remember how I greeted you when you arrived back last night?

How could I forget! And then I woke you up early this morning before you had to get up for classes.

And then we decided to conserve water when I took my shower shortly afterwards. We should do that more often, by the way.

I agree, but back to the issue at hand. I think you’re right. The pattern does seem to fit. So, we’ve figured out what is causing Voldemort’s pain. But how is this happening?

Maybe because of our links to him? We know that you can feel his emotions through your scar. Maybe the love we are feeling is traveling back to him the same way.

I guess that makes sense. What do we do now?

I think we should commit to inflicting as much pain on him as we can. Harry could almost see her smirk as she thought that.

That goes without saying. But what do you tell the Order? You can’t exactly tell Snape and Flitwick that you know what’s causing his problems since they both think that I’m dead.

Oh, hadn’t thought about that. And even with the ones that do know, I don’t think I want my family knowing that we are helping to bring Voldemort’s downfall by having sex as often as we can.

Why don’t you just tell Hermione; that way she won’t waste any time researching it, and she can just say that she couldn’t find anything.

While Harry and Ginny were conversing, Hermione continued to ask questions, and she finally stopped when she was satisfied that there was nothing else that Snape could tell her. Ginny sat through the rest of the meeting, hearing what the rest of the Order was up to, but not really listening, while Harry returned to his place behind the counter. When the meeting was over, Ginny asked to speak to Hermione in one of the spare bedrooms. After placing a Silencing Charm on the room, she explained the conclusion that she and Harry had come to, causing the older witch to break down giggling.

“You mean, that you and Harry are causing the demise of the most powerful Dark wizard this century by shagging?”

Ginny put her arm against her forehead and sighed. “The sacrifices Harry and I have to make to bring down Voldemort. I’ll try to stand it, but it will be difficult,” prompting both women to giggle again as they left the room to walk to the Floo.

At that moment, Snape walked by, the typical sneer on his face. “I don’t understand what is so funny in this time of war. You two should be focusing on how to defeat Voldemort, not giggling in the hallways like school girls.”

Ginny removed the smile off her face and said, “I assure you, Professor, I promise to do everything I can to defeat Voldemort.”

“Make sure that you do.” He turned, threw some powder into the fireplace and yelled, “Malfoy Manor!” before disappearing in the green flames. As soon as he was gone, Ginny doubled over in laughter again, tears coursing down her cheeks. “Well, one of the leaders of the Order told me to, so I guess I have to.” Are you okay with that, Harry?

Harry, who had been suppressing laughter himself as he waited on a customer, responded, Snape always complained that I couldn’t follow instructions properly. I guess we’ll have to prove him wrong this time.

Back to index


Chapter 47: Secrets

Secrets

Harry was seated in the upper corner of the Quidditch stands, under his Invisibility Cloak, away from the crowd, watching Gryffindor thrash Slytherin in the first match of the year. It turned out that Gavin was right and Ginny had put together a team that would be the one to beat for the Quidditch Cup. She had replaced Dean with Sophie Griffiths as the third Chaser, a fourth-year student, who just happened to be the younger sister of current Holyhead Harpy, Wilda Griffiths. Lydia and Sophie had struck up a close friendship since she made the team. At Keeper, she had discovered Emrys Crowder, a sixth-year. He was Muggleborn, and actually played goalkeeper on his football team at home. What won him the spot was his height; he had sprouted up eight inches over the holidays, bringing him to six and a half feet. Harry thought he looked more like a basketball player, but Emrys’ long reach was a great asset in front of the rings.

“Weasley passes to Robins, who passes to Griffiths, who reverse passes back to Weasley as the Gryffindors leapfrog towards the Slytherin Keeper. Robins in scoring range,” called the announcer, whom Harry did not recognize. “Robins cocks her arm towards the middle hoop, then, no way… she drops it straight down to Griffiths, who came out of nowhere. Griffiths grabs the Quaffle and easily scores through the left hoop. The score is now 110-20 for Gryffindor. Wow, fans, the Lions are displaying amazing teamwork today, even though this is the first match of the season. Captain Weasley is certainly filling both of her brothers’ shoes well!”

Harry’s eyes followed Ginny as she flew with abandon. Last year, he never had the luxury of just watching her fly, since he was always either practising or playing as well, and today he was thoroughly enjoying the view. Wow, she’s beautiful! Her hair, flowing in the wind, her huge smile, the joy in her eyes, the way her robes follow her curves. Merlin, is she sexy up there!

Harry was a little surprised when he received a message through their Bond. Prat! Will you please stop thinking so loudly? You’re breaking my concentration. I just lost the Quaffle because of you!

Sorry, he replied sheepishly. I’ll try to keep my thoughts to myself.

Harry did just that and enjoyed watching the rest of the game. “Forest is diving toward the base of the Gryffindor hoops!” the announcer cried. “Is it another Wronski Feint or has she spotted the Snitch? I see it! Forest grabs the Snitch easily to finish this one-sided match, Gryffindor winning 320-30!” Harry struggled to suppress the urge to jump and yell his encouragement for Lydia. He waited several minutes to allow the stands to empty before walking down to the entrance of the locker rooms.

When he arrived at the locker room, he saw a nervous boy wearing Ravenclaw robes standing about thirty feet from the door. He was pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, and held a bouquet of purple flowers in his hands. That must be Gavin, thought Harry, grinning. I wonder if he picked purple because he knows the Biblical story of Lydia, who was a seller of purple cloth.

The door opened and out came Peakes, Coote, and Crowder, celebrating their easy victory. A few moments later, Lydia and Sophie came out. Harry, who was standing close to the door, whispered, “Good catch, Forest,” as she walked by, causing a smile to break out on her face. The two girls then noticed Gavin, and Sophie giggled and nudged Lydia to approach him before leaving by herself.

“Hi, Gavin.”

“Hi, Lydia,” Gavin answered. “Um, great catch of that Snitch.”

Lydia reddened. “Thanks. It was nice of you to wait for me to tell me that.” There was an awkward silence as both teens stood there, looking at their feet.

“Those are pretty flowers you have there,” said Lydia hesitantly.

Gavin’s eyes widened. “Oh, yeah, I brought this for you,” he said as he almost shoved the small bouquet at her.

“Thank you.” She brought it to her nose and smelled it. “Mmm. I’ve always liked the smell of lilac.”

“You're welcome. Shall we go up to lunch?” asked Gavin.

“Sure,” replied Lydia.

“W–would you like to join me at the Ravenclaw table?” asked Gavin.

Lydia smiled demurely. “I would like that.” They started walking toward the castle, and when they were about halfway there, Harry noticed Gavin tentatively reach for Lydia’s hand. She intertwined her fingers with his and smiled at him, and they walked hand in hand the rest of the way to the doors of the Entrance Hall.

As Harry continued to wait for Ginny, Luna walked up. Her eyes seemed to look right at him and she tilted her head, as if she were confused for a moment. She then shrugged her shoulders and turned, watching the door.

Whew! I thought she somehow saw me, thought Harry.

A few minutes later, Demelza came out of the locker room. Before the door closed, she turned around and yelled back into the room, “And, Weasley, don’t you dare miss the victory party tonight. I don’t care if you have revising or lessons with the Headmistress, you need to have some fun.” She let the door close, turned and said, “Hi, Luna,” giving her friend a hug. While Luna and Demelza had known each other from lessons for six years, Ginny had been spending more time eating with Luna at the Ravenclaw table and Demelza began to join them, often accompanied by Lydia, and their friendship was cemented.

“You’re watching over Ginny,” said Luna.

“Yeah,” Demelza said as she sighed. “I’m really concerned about her. I’m not sure she’s dealing with Harry’s death.”

“She seems to be acting normal to me,” said Luna.

“That’s what is worrying me; she is acting as if nothing happened. She never talks about Harry, she never cries, she never gets down. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her act so happy. But the key word in that sentence is ‘act’. She can’t actually be that happy. Her fiancé died just a few months ago.”

Demelza looked back at the door to make sure Ginny wasn’t coming before continuing. “Another thing, before this year, she used to be a bit of a night owl, often staying up late. We used to have some great talks in the common room or in our dorms after midnight, at least until last year, when all her time was spent with Harry. But now, she goes to bed by eleven every night, and even though she goes to bed early, it is not uncommon for her to look tired in the morning. You saw her yesterday morning at breakfast. You can’t tell me that she got a good restful sleep that night. I’m convinced that she hides in her room, crying herself to sleep. She may even be having nightmares again. I know I certainly would if I had seen my fiancé killed in front of me. I wonder if she should see someone, like a Mind Healer.”

Luna thought for a moment, considering what Demelza had said. “I don’t think you should be as worried as you are about Ginny. When I look at her with my Spectrespecs her aura seems happy. Of course, she could have an infestation of Wrackspurts, but I really think that Ginny doesn’t miss Harry as much as you think she is.”

Harry waited until the two friends were far enough away before walking to the door to the locker room. Harry took one last look around to make sure no one else was around and then quietly slipped in the door. He walked through the combined area where captains gave their pre-match pep talks and into the girls’ locker room. There, he found Ginny, still with wet hair and wearing only a towel, sitting on a bench studying a book. He cast a silent Colloportus on the door before removing his Invisibility Cloak. The squelching noise from the Locking Spell broke Ginny’s attention and she looked up.

“Harry!” she exclaimed as she jumped up and gave him a hug.

Great match, dear, he thought in reply. That sixth goal in particular was a work of art. I don’t think their Keeper had any idea where the Quaffle was!

Thanks, she thought as she gave him a kiss.

What were you doing when I came in? asked Harry.

I was reviewing a playbook that I received from Angelina Johnson this morning at breakfast. She’s dating Fred. Or is it George? I can’t keep their love lives straight. She used it when she was captain of the Gryffindor team and she thought it might come in handy. I was just reviewing some of the plays to see what we could add to our repertoire at our next practice.

Ginny, just a few minutes ago you won your first match of the year by almost three hundred points! I think you can take a break for a day or two. Enjoy the victory.

Okay, if you say so, she thought as she smiled at him. She then kissed him again, more passionately this time.

Harry pulled back after a few moments, gasping for air. As much as I like what you’re wearing and your method of ‘enjoying the victory’, you probably should get dressed so you can get some lunch. Professor McGonagall said she wanted to meet with us this afternoon if the match was over relatively quickly.

You’re probably right. As she dressed, Harry took his mind off of the view by pondering the conversation he had overheard between Demelza and Luna.

What has you so concerned, love? she asked as she pulled on her jumper.

While I was waiting for you outside, I overheard a conversation between Demelza and Luna.

“Harry, how dare you eavesdrop on my friends?!” she said aloud.

Harry reddened. “I didn’t mean to; I was just standing there under my cloak and they started talking. I probably should have left or something, but I did learn something interesting. Demelza is very concerned about you and your reaction to my ‘death.’ She said that you never talk about me, and she never sees you cry. She says you go to bed early every night, and she suspects that you are crying yourself to sleep. She thinks that you are repressing your feelings and that maybe you need some counselling. She has also noticed that some mornings you look really tired, barely making it to breakfast, like yesterday.”

“We know whose fault that is,” she said, slapping him on the arm and giving him a facetious glare.

Harry smirked, and nudged her with his shoulder. “I’m just trying to do my part in bringing down Voldemort.”

“Seriously, now that you mention it, I have noticed that Demelza seems to be concerned about me. Recently, she has been asking me how I am feeling, and offers to listen if I ever need to talk.” She sat down to tie the laces on her trainers. “I guess I could tell her about you. I do trust her, and I don’t think she would tell anyone.”

“Another interesting thing I learned is it seems like Luna suspects something. She was trying to convince Demelza not to worry. She said that your aura is ‘happy’ and ‘I don’t think she is missing Harry as much as you think she is.’”

“Should we tell her, too?” asked Ginny.

“I don’t know. Not that I think they might reveal our secret, it’s just that I wouldn’t want them to be in danger because they knew it.”

Ginny considered this for a moment. “They have both been such good friends to me this term, and I hate to keep lying to them, but I don’t think we should risk telling them.” After a pause, she added, “I hate to do it, but I think I may have to have a little breakdown with Demelza sometime just to throw her off track.”

“That might work,” replied Harry. “Come on; let’s get you up to lunch.” He cancelled the Locking Spell and pulled on his cloak before leaving the locker room.

As they walked to the castle, Ginny asked, What are you going to do for lunch? You can’t exactly join me in the Great Hall.

I think I’ll go up to the Room of Requirement early and have Dobby bring me something from the kitchens.

At the door to the Great Hall, Harry reached out and squeezed her hand and thought, See you in a little bit. Love you.

Love you, too, Ginny replied and then turned to go in for lunch.

**********

“Congratulations on Gryffindor’s victory, Mrs Potter,” said Professor McGonagall before their lesson started. “Your team represented our house well.”

“Thank you, Headmistress,” Ginny said, turning a little red at the praise.

“I am proud of the strides the two of you have taken these last few weeks,” said Professor McGonagall. “You have mastered rapid Transfiguration and Conjuration for the purposes of duelling. Miss Tonks told me last week after the two of you left that she was very impressed with your skills. We will continue to work on this periodically, especially focusing on creativity. The element of surprise when you conjure, say, a screaming baby doll, can cause the moment of distraction that you need to defeat your opponent.

“Two weeks ago, I introduced Serpensortia to you, and you were both able to conjure a small garter snake, but today we are going to try to increase the size of your snakes, as well as try different species. The snakes you conjured last time would not exactly strike much fear in your opponent. I brought some Muggle books to let you see some examples of different snakes and enable you to picture them in your mind as you are conjuring.” They spent the next thirty minutes studying the different species of snakes, their properties, and their appearances. The Headmistress also brought a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them to show them the Runespoor, a magical snake with three heads.

Once they felt comfortable with the characteristics of the various snakes, Professor McGonagall gave them final instructions. “I want you to picture one of these snakes and then say the spell. However, because of the potential danger involved, I want only one of you to cast at a time, while the other controls the snake. I will stand to the side, prepared to Vanish the snake if you have any difficulty. Do you understand?”

The Potters both agreed to her instructions and spent the next hour conjuring various snakes and then ordering them to attack a magical dummy that the Room had provided for them. They discovered that the black mamba was especially quick, but also hard to control and required Professor McGonagall to Vanish it more often than not. However, with practice, they learned that if they yelled an order while the mamba was still appearing out of the end of their wands, the snake would follow the commands. In their reading, they learned that bites from the black mamba also had the advantage of working almost immediately. The inland taipan, listed as the world’s most venomous land snake, was also hard to control, but for another reason, since it shied away from humans and hid as soon as it was conjured. Cobras, on the other hand, were easier to control, and their appearance was more menacing, so, their utility was obvious. Kraits, another type of poisonous snake, were smaller and sneakier, so were excellent if stealth was needed. Of the constrictor types, they discovered that anacondas took too much energy to conjure, but that pythons were large enough to be used effectively.

Lastly, they conjured a Runespoor, which was perhaps the hardest to control, because of the three heads.

Attack the two-leg!” commanded Harry. The Room had provided them with a number of dummies that they were using as targets for the snakes to attack.

Yess, let uss attack,” responded the right head, the planner, and it headed for the target.

Yess,” said the middle head, the dreamer. “We could attack, but I wissh we were in a forest like at home. Wouldn’t that be nisse? I can almosst vissualize it now, climbing the treess …”

“Would you jusst sshut up?” said the left head, the critic, whose constant hissing was irritating to Ginny and Harry’s ears. “Obvioussly, we are not in a foresst, and all your fantassissing about it won’t make it sso! And why sshould we attack the two-leg? Jusst becausse ssome other two-leg tellss uss?

Ginny decided to try a more forceful tack, since this had worked with some of the species. “You are to ssubmit to the sspeakerss! He ssaid to attack the two-leg! Do ass you are told!”

“Yess, we sshould ssubmit. Sslither thiss way,” said the right head.

Perhapss we sshould find a sspot in the ssun to warm oursselvess,” said the middle head.

The left head turned toward Harry and Ginny said, “Who ssaid you were the bossss of uss? Jusst because you are a sspeaker, doessn’t give you the right to order uss about! Did anyone ever tell you that you have a horrible acssent? Did you learn to sspeak under a sstone?” It then turned to Ginny and hissed, “What iss with that dissgussting sshade of crimsson fur on your head? How do you hide yoursself? “ Looking at the Headmistress, it said, “What iss wrong with thiss oness face? Did ssomeone plasse a sstick up itss arsse?”

Ginny held her hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle as the three heads continued to argue. At one point, it seemed like two of the heads were going to gang up on the third. They’re worse than Ron and Hermione! thought Harry.

After a few more attempts by both Harry and Ginny to convince the three headed snake to attack, the Headmistress waved her wand and said, “Vipera Evanesca,” causing the snake to Vanish. “That was certainly a waste of time. What was all that hissing about?”

Harry said, “They were just arguing.” Harry and Ginny translated the gist of the conversation to the Headmistress and she nodded.

“What about when the one head was hissing right at me?” the Professor asked.

“Um …” said Harry, trying to come up with something quickly. “He was just commenting that you looked unhappy.”

“Oh. I would guess that was accurate. That constant hissing was becoming annoying and they weren’t moving any closer to the target.” Professor McGonagall turned to move one of the manikins and Ginny doubled over in silent laughter behind her back.

Nice cover, Potter, she thought. I don’t think I could have said anything; I was working so hard not to laugh.

The Headmistress had them work a little more with the non-magical snakes before recommending they stop and take a rest. “You have both done well learning this spell. I am impressed with your ability to both conjure the snakes and then control them. Mrs Potter, that ten foot king cobra was especially remarkable. Now, as an experiment, I want to see what happens if you both try to speak to a snake that one of you conjures. Give the snake two contradictory commands.”

“Okay,” Harry said, unsure what the Headmistress had planned. “Serpensortia,” he casted, and a blue krait erupted from his wand. “Attack the two-leg,” Harry hissed.

No, attack the dog!” hissed Ginny, indicating a stuffed dog that the snakes seemed to enjoy biting.

The snake lifted its head and it turned back and forth between its two intended targets, while Harry and Ginny both continued to urge it to attack their object. After a few moments, it looked like the snake just gave up and coiled itself into a tight bundle and went to sleep.

Professor McGonagall. “What did you learn from this exercise?”

Ginny and Harry thought. “If two Parselmouths try to control a snake, the snake gets confused,” said Ginny.

“Correct. Now, why is that important?”

“When we battle Voldemort next, this skill will not be that helpful, since he can block our attempts,” said Harry.

“True. And what else, especially since we don’t think he is aware of your abilities?”

“If he tries to attack us with a snake, we should be able to block him, also,” offered Ginny.

“Correct again. However, Severus informs us that he has a pet snake named Nagini. I surmise that his relationship with Nagini is different than a conjured snake, so I would expect that you would not be able to confuse her.” Ginny and Harry nodded in understanding. “Of course, while this ability might not be that useful when you battle Voldemort, it should still be very effective against other Death Eaters. It is always good to have something, I think the Muggle saying is ‘hidden up your sleeve.’ Is that correct, Mr Potter?”

“Yes, it refers to Muggle magicians who seem to make something appear out of thin air, when actually they have it hidden in their sleeve before they pull it out.”

“I would recommend you continue to practice on your own time, focusing on the snakes with the most potent venom,” said the Professor. “The more potent the venom, the quicker your opponent will succumb.”

Harry’s head was down. “I’m not sure I could order a snake to bite with the intent to kill a person.”

The Headmistress considered this for a moment. Putting her hand on his shoulder, she said, “Harry, I understand what you are saying. It is always difficult to take another life, but in war sometimes that may be necessary.” Harry nodded. “However, I think there may be another way to deal with the issue. There are some counter spells that Healers use to treat snake bites. Perhaps I can have Madam Pomfrey teach you those. That way, in a fight, you could conjure a snake, have it bite your opponent, and when he or she falls, you could cast the counter spell.”

Harry’s face brightened considerably at this suggestion. “Thanks, Professor. I know I might have to kill in the future, but I would prefer to do it as few times as possible.”

The Headmistress smiled at them and said, “Good work this afternoon. I have kept you overtime, so you are dismissed. Mrs Potter, I believe you have a victory party to prepare for.”

**********

At breakfast one morning three weeks after the match, an unfamiliar owl landed in front of Ginny and held out its leg with a letter attached. Intrigued, she retrieved the letter and gave the owl a few pieces of bacon before it flew off. The envelope was just addressed to her, and, while the handwriting looked a little familiar, she couldn’t place where she had seen it before. She opened the envelope, pulled out the parchment, and began reading.

Ginny,

I know your secret. Meet me in the Hogs Head at noon on Saturday. If you don’t show, I’ll tell the Daily Prophet. Come alone. Don’t bring him!

Michael

“Ginny, what’s wrong?” asked Demelza, who was sitting across from her.

“Yeah, Ginny, you’ve gone pale all of a sudden. Did something happen to someone in your family?” asked Lydia.

“No,” she replied, still a little stunned. “My family is fine. It’s a letter from Michael Corner, my old boyfriend.” Trying to cover her reaction, she said, “I barely spoke to him last year, even though he was still at Hogwarts. Now, out of the blue, he writes to me. It just shocked me.”

“What did he want?” asked Demelza, her tone obviously suspicious.

“He wants to get together this Saturday for lunch during our Hogsmeade day. Just to catch up on our lives,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant, but unsure if she pulled it off.

Demelza’s eyes narrowed. “Are you going to do it?”

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t see why not.”

Demelza’s face started to redden. “I can tell you why not. Because he’s a lying, cheating arse! Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I remember how he treated you, constantly ogling that flirt Cho Chang. I wouldn’t be surprised if he cheated on you with her. Everyone knows that he slept with her even when she was engaged to Cedric. How can you even consider meeting him?”

Before Ginny could answer, Demelza’s countenance softened and she asked, “You aren’t seeing him because of Harry, are you?”

“What do you mean?”

Demelza’s brow furrowed as she thought. “I’m not sure how to say this.” She paused for another moment. “We all know how much you loved Harry, right Lydia?” Lydia nodded. Demelza leaned across the table and held Ginny’s hand as she looked her directly in the eyes. “I know you miss him, and I’m sure you feel like there is a hole in your heart since he died, but going after a former boyfriend isn’t going to fill that hole. Certainly, not that berk. If you need some male companionship, Dean would be so much better.”

Ginny, hating to manipulate Demelza in this way, closed her eyes and tried to pull up the emotions she had felt during July when she believed Harry was dead. Soon, tears began to form, and she looked again at her friend. “It’s not that. I don’t want to get back together with him. No one will ever be able to take Harry’s place. Michael says in the letter that he’s changed and that he wants to apologize in person. I think it would be the right thing to at least hear him out.”

Demelza took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I didn’t mean to suggest that you were trying to replace Harry. I just don’t want you to make a mistake while you’re still in mourning. At least tell me you’ll let me come with you. I don’t trust him and I don’t think you should be alone with him.”

“I can take care of myself,” insisted Ginny.

“I know you can. But you’re vulnerable right now, and I wouldn’t put it past him to take advantage of you.”

Ginny thought for a moment. “I was planning on meeting with Hermione this Saturday for lunch, so, would it be okay if I took her as ‘my protection’?”

Demelza sighed. “I can live with that.”

Ginny suddenly gasped. “Oh, bugger. I left my essay for Muggle Studies in my room. I better go back and get it.” She stood up and left the Great Hall as quickly as she could. Almost running, she raced through the corridors back to Gryffindor tower. As she went, she sent a thought to Harry, Meet me in my room, please! and attempted to hold back the tears that threatened to come.

As soon as she closed the door to the Head Girl Suite, Harry was there, holding her, and the dam broke. “What are we going to do?” she said as she sobbed into his chest.

“I don’t know, but let’s talk to Professor McGonagall, Ron, and Hermione, and I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with a plan.” He tightened his hold on her. “I will not let him hurt you or us, I promise you,” he said firmly.

**********

Shortly before noon that Saturday, Ginny stood outside the Hog’s Head Inn. She took a deep breath, pulled open the door, and entered. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light, but when she did, she saw that the décor hadn’t changed any since she had last been there, during her fourth year at the first meeting of the DA. She realized that, ironically, she had come with Michael that time also. There were several roughhewn tables scattered around the room, only a few occupied, and those who were there were bent over, as if they didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation. As she scanned the room, she finally saw Michael sitting at the back, nursing a mug of some unidentifiable beverage.

She approached him and said, “Hi, Michael.” She began to pull out the chair opposite him to sit down, but Michael stopped her. “Hi, Ginny. Don’t sit down; I have a room reserved upstairs. I thought we would want privacy for our discussion.” The smile on his face as he said this made Ginny uncomfortable and she struggled to suppress a shiver. “Shall I get you something to drink before we go up?”

Ginny shook her head, not wanting to drink anything out of one of those cloudy glasses. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

“Suit yourself.” She followed him up the stairs and they entered a small room. It was dominated by a lumpy bed, covered by a quilt that had looked like it had seen several decades of use. To the right was a table with two chairs that matched the ones in the bar. Michael sat down and indicated that she should sit across from him.

Ginny swallowed nervously, waiting for Michael to start the conversation. He just sat there, sipping his drink and staring at her. Eventually the suspense overcame her and she sighed as she said, “Michael, can we get on with this?”

Michael leered at her and said, “Direct and to the point. I always liked that about you.” He leaned back in his chair and laid his arm over the back of the chair. “Before we start, I’m going to have to ask you for your wand,” he said extending his hand across the table.

Ginny’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why should I do that?” she asked hostilely.

Michael chuckled. “Now, now, Ginny. Don’t get angry. I just know that you have a temper, and, believe me, experiencing your Bat Bogey Hex once was enough for me. I’m afraid I insist on having your wand for my protection. If you won’t, then our meeting is over.”

Ginny reluctantly pulled out her wand, placing it in his hand. He took it and placed it in the drawer of a small dresser, before turning back to her.

“As I wrote to you,” he began, “I know that Potter is actually alive and that the two of you have secretly married. I am guessing you have your reasons to keep this hush-hush, and I don’t need to know what they are. I just would hate to see this information become public.”

“How do you know this?”

He chuckled again. “Do you remember me telling you about my American Muggle cousin? We exchange occasional letters. Last week I received another letter from her.” He pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket, covered in handwriting, and held it so that he could read it. “Let me summarize for you. She primarily rants on and on about how unfair life was. She does tend to whinge at times when she writes to me.” He looked down at the letter, scanning it. “Here, she says that she didn’t get into the university she wanted to attend. Her best friend was spreading awful rumours about her. Her parents couldn’t accept that she was eighteen and now an adult and they still treated her like a child. They grounded her for staying out too late and won’t let her drive her car. Quite frankly, just normal adolescent angst and quite boring,” he said with a sneer.

“Then I turned over to the back page.” He dramatically turned the letter over in his hand. “And it became much more interesting. Here she writes about seeing her old boyfriend. How handsome he was, how she still loved him, and she tried to convince him to take her back. But he refused her advances, saying that he found someone else. And, then, out of nowhere, this ‘bitch,’ her word, not mine, comes up, wraps her arm around him, and they announce that they are married. She goes on to describe her, and this description struck a chord with me.” He looked down at the letter again. “Let’s see, where is it? Oh, here it is. ‘This bitch had horrible red hair, muddy brown eyes, and ugly freckles all over her face. She was short and didn’t have half the figure that I do. I don’t have any idea what he sees in her.’” Ginny gasped and shuddered when she realized what the letter referred to. Michael looked over at Ginny, his eyes travelling up and down her body and leered again. “Sound like anyone you know? Oh, I disagree about the figure; you have developed nicely since we were together.

“Anyway, after I read this, I pulled out some of her old letters.” He pulled another letter out. “I always keep my correspondence, by the way. I have every letter you sent me, too. This letter is from the fall of 1996. In it she describes her date to a dance. She goes on and on about how handsome he is. She loves his messy black hair, his piercing green eyes, and again, I quote, ‘he has this scar on his forehead shaped like a lightning bolt that makes him look so rugged.’ And then she says she even loves his name, Brook Pelton, which caught my eye. Brook Pelton was the name that Harry Potter used first term last year, and he was from America. It didn’t take much for me to put the clues together. I was in Ravenclaw, after all.”

He leaned over the table, staring intensely at Ginny. “Now, what are we going to do about this? It would be a shame if The Daily Prophet learned of this. I’m sure it would be front page news, that Harry Potter was actually alive and had secretly married. I can just see the headlines now,” he said, looking up and sweeping his hand through the air, “’ The Boy-Who-Lived Lives Again! Secretly Marries Hogwarts Head Girl!’ ” He leaned over again, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t try anything, Weasley. Do you see that owl there?” He pointed to the owl, which she recognized as the same one from the other morning. It was perched on a window sill in front of an open window, and had a letter tied to its leg. “The letter contains all of the information I just shared with you. My owl has been instructed to fly directly to The Daily Prophet if you so much as raise a hand to me. All I have to do is say the word, and she is gone. Do you understand?” Ginny nodded.

Michael leaned back again. “Like I said earlier, I would hate for this news to get out. Perhaps we can work out some kind of deal to keep it secret.”

Ginny leaned forward, her hands together, and pleaded desperately, “Please, Michael! It’s crucial that no one knows that Harry is alive! Voldemort would come after him and try to kill him again, and this time he might succeed. What do you want? I’ll do anything to keep this secret!”

Michael leered. “Anything?” raising his eyebrow. “Good, because that is what I had in mind.” He stood, walked over to the bed, and lied down. He patted the space next to him. “Come over here and join me, Ginny. When we were together, you were a bit of a tease, and never even let me touch you. I think it’s time you made it up to me. After all, I am a man, and I have needs.”

Ginny stood slowly, tears in her eyes, and took a few small steps towards the bed. “Wait,” Michael said, holding up his hand. “I think you’re overdressed for this. Take off your jumper and jeans. I want to see if you live up to my imagination.”

Ginny reluctantly obeyed and stood before him in just her bra and knickers. “Nice,” said Michael. “Does Potter like that black lace?” he asked, ogling her. “Now, come here.”

Ginny climbed on to the bed next to Michael, lying on her side, propped up on one elbow. She reached her other hand to Michael’s face, caressing it. “Before we start,” Ginny said, quietly, “I need to know something. Does anyone else know? I wouldn’t want to do this and then learn that you’ve already told someone.”

Michael laughed. “You have my word, I have told no one else about this.”

A smile appeared on Ginny’s face. “Good.” She waved her hand over him and said, “Petrificus Totalus!” and Michael’s body stiffened. “You see, Michael, much has changed since we were dating. I’m a much stronger witch now; I don’t need my wand to cast spells anymore.” She turned toward the door and said, “You can come out, now, Hermione.” Hermione suddenly appeared, holding a shimmery piece of cloth. “Thanks for the back-up,” said Ginny, “not that I needed it with this git.”

“Great acting, Ginny. You almost had me convinced that you were frightened of him,” she said with a wink.

Ginny stood up and began getting dressed. She noticed Michael’s eyes, the only part of his body that could move, dart to the window. Ginny followed his gaze and saw that the owl was gone. “Oh, don’t worry about the owl. Harry’s already taken care of that. He was waiting right outside and incinerated that letter the moment she left the room. Which reminds me,” she said as she turned toward the table. “Incendio,” Ginny spoke, causing the letters from Lisa to go up in flames.

Having pulled on her clothes, Ginny went over to the dresser and retrieved the wand she had given to Michael and held it up. “This, by the way, is one of my brothers’ trick wands.” She flicked her wrist and it changed into a bouquet of artificial flowers. “You didn’t actually think that I would just hand over my wand to you, did you?” she asked with a smile.

Ginny then walked over to one side of the bed, and Hermione stood on the other. His eyes darted back and forth between the two witches. Tears started streaming down his face as he tried desperately to break Ginny’s spell. Ginny pointed to her friend. “I’m sure you remember Hermione. She is a very talented witch, especially when it comes to memory charms. She is going to remove all memory of these letters and our meeting today. I would recommend you cooperate with her, or you might forget a lot more.” She leaned over, holding her wand inches from Michael’s nose, her face suddenly transformed, filled with fury. Her aura flared around her, giving the room an eerie light. “However, she is going to let you remember one thing from today. No one, and I mean no one, threatens me and my husband. Cross us again, and you will not like what happens to you. That I don’t want you to forget.”

She stood up and, with a pop, Harry appeared next to her. They held hands, causing their auras to flare even stronger. Ginny wrinkled her nose at a noxious odour that suddenly filled the room. “Oh, Michael, it looks like you’ve had an accident,” teased Ginny, noticing the wet stain on his pants. “Hermione, we’ll leave you to it.” The couple then disappeared with simultaneous pops.

Hermione leaned over the still frozen wizard, her wand pointed at his temple. “Now, Corner, if you will just relax and think about those letters, this will be done in just a moment. I promise, it won’t hurt a bit.”

A/N: Thanks again to my beta Arnel for her help with the story. The scene with Michael was totally her idea. When she sent back her edits for the honeymoon chapter, she made a comment that Lisa knowing that Brook was alive worried her and wondered how that was going to fit into the plot. I have to admit that I hadn't thought of exploring that path at all until she mentioned it. This is just one example of how she improves this story.

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Chapter 48: Fears Faced

Fears Faced

As the calendar turned to December, the weather became much colder. One Saturday afternoon, Ginny and Harry were snuggling on the sofa in his flat in front of a roaring fire, recovering from yet another exhausting session with Professor McGonagall, when they both were startled by the roar of the fireplace as it flamed green and out stumbled Ron and Hermione. Harry yawned and Ginny stretched as their friends brushed the soot off their robes. Guess we fell asleep, thought Harry as he rubbed his eyes.

After greetings and hugs, Harry went to the kitchen to work on the final preparations for dinner while Hermione and Ginny talked about wedding plans. Harry was stirring a pot that he had started simmering before their impromptu nap when Ron entered the small kitchen, avoiding all of the discussion about colours, flowers, and dresses. “You were lucky mate; there wasn’t time to do all this planning for your wedding,” pointing at the two women, who were intensely studying fabric swatches that were strewn about the coffee table in the next room.

“True,” replied Harry, “but you and Hermione getting married so soon after us lets Ginny and your mum be involved in the planning to make up for what they missed out on with ours.”

“Yeah, but that means I have to live through twice as much,” Ron whinged.

Harry slapped his friend on the back with a chuckle. “We all have our burdens to bear, mate,” he said as he added two cans of black beans to the pot.

“What is that?” asked Ron. “It smells wonderful.”

“Chili, one of my mom’s specialties. She taught me how to make it before she died.”

“It’s not spicy, is it?” asked Ron.

“No,” chuckled Harry. “I made it mild, not knowing how you and Hermione feel about spicy food. I do have some hot sauce to add to it for Ginny and me.”

“Ginny likes spicy food?”

“Yeah, she does. I’ve exposed her to quite a few different cuisines since we’ve been together and she likes several different types of spicy foods, like Mexican, Thai, Chinese, and Indian.”

Harry turned to the ice box and pulled out some bowls of sour cream, shredded cheese, scallions, and cilantro that he had previously prepared and put them on a tray, and then added the bottle of hot sauce. “Ron, can you take these to the table?”

“Sure,” said Ron and he used his wand to elevate the tray to the dining area, which was actually a small table with four chairs just off of the sitting room, while Harry carried the chili pot and placed it in the centre of the already set table.

“Dinner’s ready,” announced Harry and the two couples tucked in.

“What did you do with Professor McGonagall today?” asked Hermione as they enjoyed Harry’s dinner.

“We worked on blocking the Killing Curse,” said Ginny.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t block the Killing Curse. Wait! Is there some ancient shield spell that only you two can do?” She leaned forward, eager to learn something new.

“No,” said Harry. “As far as we are aware, there aren’t any shield spells that can block it. But solid objects can, so we were practicing rapid conjuration to block a spell. It takes a lot of power to do it, but with some practice, we actually were pretty good at it.”

“Do you mean the Headmistress was using Unforgivables?” asked Hermione, shocked.

“Of course not,” said Ginny. “She started by just using Stunning Spells, but gradually used stronger spells like the Reductor Curse. She assured us that a physical block will work just as well on Avada Kedavra.”

“You two are really lucky to be receiving all this extra attention from Professor McGonagall. I wish I could train with you,” said Hermione, envy obvious in her voice.

“The Headmistress says that most of the spells we are working on require too much power for most witches and wizards. She is passing on skills that she knows Professor Dumbledore was able to do; she can’t even do much of what she is teaching us.”

Hermione looked disappointed. “Oh, well.”

“So, Hermione,” said Harry to change the topic, “tell us about the Order meeting last night. How are things going?”

“In general, things are not going well. The Ministry continues to move in favour of Voldemort, as more and more people are being replaced because of unfavourable views. Professor Snape suspects that Minister Thicknesse might be Imperiused, since Yaxley, one of the few known Death Eaters that wasn’t caught in the Hogsmeade attacks, has been made the new Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and seems to be the Minister’s main advisor.

“Fortunately,” Hermione continued, “the Department of Mysteries is pretty autonomous and Voldemort’s people rarely come down there, and, when they do, they just get disoriented and end up leaving before they find us. That spinning room with all those doors has a lot of advantages,” she chuckled. “Remus’ attempts to convince the werewolves to join our side, or at least not join theirs, are not bearing much fruit. There have not been as many attacks lately, but we suspect that so many Death Eaters being captured on their ill-fated attempt to kidnap Ginny is putting a crimp in the plans. However, Snape says that they are doing a lot of recruiting and training of the new Death Eaters.”

“Any new ideas why Voldemort wants me?” asked Ginny.

“Nothing specific. Professor Snape thinks that it has to do with your Soul Bond. Voldemort seems to think that you have some special power even though Harry is ‘dead’ and he wants to use that power for the Dark side. The only person that seems to know anything is Draco, of all people, and apparently he isn’t talking. Sirius also thinks that Voldemort would love to add you as a trophy, especially if he can convince you to come to him willingly.”

“Like that would happen,” said Ginny disgustedly.

Hermione shrugged. “Voldemort thinks highly of his abilities to attract people to himself.”

“Any progress in figuring out why we can’t get Aufero Malum to work?” asked Harry.

Hermione shook her head. “Sorry, but I can’t figure it out. I keep going over my translations and I think I have it correct. I was thinking of asking Professor Babbling to review them, but I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance. And I’m just as frustrated in my other project.”

“What’s that?” asked Ron between bites.

“Trying to figure what object Voldemort put his soul into and where he has hidden it. Professor Snape’s been trying to help in that, though.”

“How?” asked Harry.

“Well, he told Voldemort that the Order is looking for it, which he already suspected, so it wasn’t like he gave away much. He then asked Voldemort if it was hidden and protected well enough, attempting to get him to talk about it. Voldemort only laughed and said that it was safe.”

“Maybe it’s at Malfoy Manor where most of the Death Eaters are. It would be smart to keep it close,” suggested Ginny.

“No, Snape is definitely under the impression that Voldemort has it somewhere else.”

“What about Gringotts?” asked Ron. “The security there would certainly protect it.”

“We thought about that, and we had Bill and Fleur do some snooping there, but they couldn’t find anything in any of the vaults of known Death Eaters.”

“Do you remember exactly what Snape reported that Voldemort said?” asked Harry.

Hermione’s brow furrowed, just like it always did when she was thinking hard about something. “As I recall, he said, ‘Don’t you worry, Severus. It is somewhere only I can get it,’ with the emphasis on the ‘I’. He must have erected some very strong wards. Even a Fidelius requires at least one other person to know the secret.”

Harry and Ginny looked at each other. You don’t think? suggested Harry through their link.

It would be a good place. No one would suspect it at Hogwarts, Ginny grinned back.

When do you want to go exploring?

I guess I’m free tomorrow afternoon after Quidditch practice. Not looking forward to it, though. Her face became paler as she thought about returning to the place that held such bad memories for her.

Harry squeezed her hand. It’ll be alright. We’ll be together. He won’t be there and the basilisk is long dead.

I know, but it still makes me nervous. Harry poured a soothing sentiment to her through their Bond and her face calmed and she smiled back at Harry. Thanks.

“They’re at it again,” said Ron with an exasperated tone. “Would you two care to share?”

“Sorry, Ron,” said Harry sheepishly. “We think we know where Voldemort might have hidden the object.”

“Where?” asked Hermione excitedly.

“The Chamber,” Harry and Ginny said simultaneously.

Hermione paused for a moment, thinking about their idea. “Why didn’t I think of that? It does make a lot of sense. Only a Parselmouth could open it again.” She turned to her fiancé. “Ron, do you think you still remember how to open the entrance?”

Ron’s face did not look optimistic. “I could try, but I’m not sure. It has been a long time.”

“No worries, mate. Ginny and I can open it,” said Harry.

“How?” asked Hermione, her eyes wide.

“We discovered on our honeymoon that we are both Parselmouths. We had a nice conversation with a snake at a zoo. He was hungry and bored,” giggled Ginny at the memory.

“Last month Professor McGonagall has us work on it during one of Advance Transfiguration sessions,” added Harry. “She taught us the snake conjuring spell and we’ve been practicing with different species of snakes, balancing ease of control and effectiveness at defeating an opponent.”

Ron shuddered. “But Parseltongue is only spoken by Dark wizards. How can you both do it?”

“We’re not sure,” replied Ginny with a shrug. “Maybe it has something to do with our connection with Voldemort.”

“That could be it,” said Hermione. “And Ron, it’s not just spoken by Dark wizards. It just seemed to be handed down most famously through Salazar Slytherin’s line, which happened to be primarily Dark.”

“We were thinking of going down into the Chamber tomorrow afternoon,” said Ginny. “Care to join us?”

“I’d love to,” said Hermione. “It will be fascinating to see.”

“I can’t. I have Quidditch practice all day,” Ron said with a little groan. “Quite frankly, I could just as soon not go anyway. Going down there once was more than enough for me.”

“When are you thinking of going?” asked Hermione.

“I have Quidditch practice from eleven to one. I’ll catch a quick shower and lunch and then we could meet you at two. Does that sound good?” asked Ginny.

**********

After completing their nightly ‘Order business,’ the young newlyweds were lying in bed, Ginny’s head resting on Harry’s chest. Harry noticed the usual peace and sleepiness were not emanating from Ginny through the Bond. Instead, he could feel an underlying anxiety. “Ginny, are you thinking about tomorrow?” he asked.

Ginny sighed. “Yeah, sorry, I’m probably keeping you awake, aren’t I?”

“It’s fine. Do you want to talk about it? I really don’t know that much about your experiences that year. I remember what you told me when you explained about your nightmares last fall, but we haven’t talked about it since. Maybe if you tell me I can more easily help you face your fears tomorrow.”

“You’re right; it would be good to get this off my chest. I’ve never talked much about it, but perhaps now is the time.” She snuggled an inch or two closer and snaked an arm over his stomach. Harry tightened his hold on her shoulder, lending her his support.

“I had always wanted to attend Hogwarts,” Ginny began with a sigh. “Some of my earliest memories, other than dreaming of you, are of listening to Bill and Charlie talk about all that they were learning. But as the time to leave approached, I started to become more nervous. Ron had come back from his first year changed. He was so much more mature and he didn’t want to spend time with me anymore. He also bragged to me about his adventures, telling me some details that he neglected to share with Mum and Dad. I was so hungry for any interaction with him, I listened, but his stories scared me. Not that I would admit that to him.

“When I stepped on to the Hogwarts Express, I tried to sit with Ron, but he told me to find somewhere else. I was crushed.”

“Ron did that? That doesn’t sound like him.”

“Well, he did. You didn’t know him when he was younger. Right immature git at times. He didn’t want to be seen with his ‘ickle sister.’ I looked for Luna, but couldn’t find her. I eventually found a compartment that was empty and sat by myself.” She paused and took a deep breath. “That’s when I started writing in the diary,” she added quietly.

Harry held her tighter, trying to comfort her. “How did you get the diary in the first place?”

“I found it in my cauldron after shopping at Diagon Alley for all of my school supplies. I was going through all of my books and found it. I thought my parents had bought it for me. In retrospect, we think that Lucius Malfoy slipped it in.”

“Malfoy! How did he do that?”

“There was a little skirmish in the bookshop between him and my dad. We think that he gave it to me then.”

“Why would he do that to a defenceless little girl?”

“He and Dad never agreed on anything, and Dad had recently introduced some legislation that Malfoy opposed. We think that he did it to discredit Dad. If it was revealed that Arthur Weasley’s daughter caused the death of some students at Hogwarts, his legislation would be doomed not to pass, and he probably would have been sacked.”

Harry said through clenched teeth, “If Tom hadn’t killed him first, I might have taken him out myself.”

“Harry, you need to calm down,” Ginny chided and Harry could feel her smiling against his chest. “It’s in the past, and, as you said, he’s already dead. You can’t make him pay for his crimes now.”

Harry took several deep breaths to settle his emotions. He then asked, “What did you write in the diary?”

“I told Tom everything. How I was excited and scared all at the same time. How my dorm mates teased me about my second hand robes and books. I complained about Ron ignoring me for his new friends. I even told him about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” she said with a giggle. “I told him about my dreams of you growing up, but he was mostly interested in learning about how you defeated Voldemort. In retrospect, that should have been a clue. As the term went on, I spent more and more of my free time writing in it.

“The more I wrote in it, the more it consumed me. I started having nightmares, seeing things that Tom had done to others, or his hopes and dreams of the future. In case you didn’t know it, he is one sick bastard. I learned things that no one should ever see, nonetheless an eleven-year-old girl. But I didn’t initially put it together that the nightmares were caused by the diary. I confided to the Tom of the diary about some of them, and he told me that the nightmares were probably because I was away from home for the first time and living in an old castle with lots of secrets.

“I wasn’t sleeping well because of the nightmares, and I didn’t feel like eating because I couldn’t stop the scenes from playing in my mind. I had a hard time concentrating in class. I was miserable. And, believe it or not, my brothers didn’t even notice, at least not for months. When I think back on it, I’m still a little bitter about that. Weren’t they supposed to watch over me? Weren’t they supposed to protect me? But no, they were all too busy with their own lives to detect that their only sister …” Ginny broke down, sobbing into Harry’s chest, unable to complete her thought.

Harry ran one hand through Ginny’s hair while the other held her tighter still. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I can’t imagine how that would have felt.”

“It felt like they didn’t love me,” she whimpered.

“You know that’s not true. They were just young and selfish, but I know they love you.”

“I know that now,” she sniffed. “But I didn’t when I was eleven.

Harry wiped a tear from her cheek, caressing her face gently, sending as much caring through their Bond as he could. A few moments later, Ginny was able to continue. “As the term continued, I became more isolated from my brothers and my classmates. Then, the blackouts began.

“The first one was the incident I told you about last year, when I was covered with the feathers and blood. He taught me Scourgify and Tergeo afterwards, and, unfortunately, I had lots of opportunities to master them. Then, about a week later, was the night of the Halloween Feast. I remember beginning to eat, but then, the next thing I knew I was back in my bed, and my robes were filthy and my hands were covered by red paint. I was scared that it happened again, but Tom reassured me that I must have been caught up in the excitement of the night. It was only the next morning when I came down to a common room that was atwitter that I learned about the events of the previous evening. Filch’s cat, Mrs Norris, had been Petrified and a message had been written on a wall above her body.

“What did the message say?”

“’The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware.’”

“This all sounds like something out of a bad horror movie,” Harry said, but his joke fell flat. “Sorry. This isn’t something to laugh at, is it?”

Ginny shook her head against his chest. “I went to the corridor that day to see the message for myself, and, when I read it, I had a sensation of déjà vu, and it gave me the willies.

“Over the next few weeks, I suffered several blackouts and, each time I had one, someone else was Petrified. By the time the Christmas holidays came, Colin and then Justin Finch-Fletchley, that arrogant Hufflepuff prat in your year, were Petrified as well. Since each attack occurred during a blackout, I put it together that I had to be the one doing it. I thought I was going mad, but Tom kept reassuring me that I was okay. Eventually I became suspicious of the diary, that it was causing me to do these things, so I tried to get rid of it. I first tried to throw it in the fire late one night, but it wouldn’t burn. Then I tried to flush it down Myrtle’s toilet. I figured since no one ever went in there, it was the perfect place.”

“Myrtle’s toilet?”

“Moaning Myrtle. She’s the ghost that haunts the girls’ first floor loo. She was killed by Tom the first time he opened the Chamber when she saw the basilisk, but no one knew that at the time. I’m sure you’ll meet her tomorrow. For a few days, I felt better. I slept without nightmares for the first time in months, my appetite returned, and I was able to pay attention in lessons. My mind was clear. I felt like myself again. I thought I was finally free. But that freedom was short lived.

“What I didn’t realize at the time was that my attempt to flush the diary down the toilet only resulted in a huge mess for Mr Filch when the toilet backed up. Ron and Hermione were walking by and heard Myrtle complaining. They had become familiar with Myrtle when they were brewing Polyjuice Potion in her loo to figure out who the Heir of Slytherin was. Ron was convinced that it was Malfoy, so they used the potion to sneak into the Slytherin dorms. Anyway, Myrtle was whinging about someone throwing things at her. Turns out, when I tried to flush the diary, it went down the pipes, where she had been moping about death, and travelled through her head. It then was … well, regurgitated by the toilet and was on the floor of the loo, where Ron and Hermione found it. Of course, I didn’t know any of this at the time.

”A few days later, I was enjoying my new found clarity, when I saw Ron showing Hermione how it could write back whenever he wrote in it. I was horrified. While I didn’t want it because of what it had done to me, I knew I couldn’t let it possess Ron. So, one afternoon while he and Hermione were studying in the library, I snuck into his dorm and stole it back. I tried to resist it this time, but eventually it gained power over me again. I was back to square one, as if I had never escaped from its power.

“After another few weeks, I knew I couldn’t keep going on as I was. I didn’t know what to do, but eventually decided to tell someone. I didn’t really know any of the faculty well, so I decided that Percy would be a good option, since he was a Prefect. So, one evening I summoned the courage to talk to him, and asked the twins if they knew where he was. Fred went up to his dorm and came down a few minutes later and said that he was in a third floor classroom. Obviously, he must have checked the Marauder’s Map, but they hadn’t shared the existence of that magical tool with me yet. I should have suspected something was up, because Fred had a mischievous grin on his face, but then again, the twins almost always look like they are up to something. When I found the classroom and opened the door, I found Percy and his girlfriend, Penny … well, in a compromising position. Let’s just say that both of them were not wearing all of their clothes.”

Harry gasped. “Perfect Prefect Percy? My image of him is forever besmirched,” chuckled Harry.

Ginny giggled into Harry’s chest. “Of course, I was terribly embarrassed and ran out of the room. I couldn’t even look Percy in the eye after that, nonetheless tell him about what was going on. I thought about telling the twins, but I was afraid that they might think I was trying to prank them. So, I resolved to tell Ron and Hermione. I thought that they might be able to help me figure out what to do next. But when I tried to tell them, Percy overheard me saying that I had something important to tell them, and he interrupted before I could say anything. Percy thought the important thing that I wanted to tell was about his tryst with Penny.

“A few days later, I had another blackout, and Penny and Hermione were Petrified. When I learned, I wrote to Tom, and he said that they had been attacked as a punishment to me for trying to tell and warned me that if I tried to tell anyone else, they might be killed instead of petrified. After that, I didn’t even think about telling anyone.

“I was so looking forward to the Mandrakes maturing so that the potion to restore all of those students I had Petrified could be brewed, but then the night before they were ready, I had my last blackout. The next thing I remember is waking up on the floor of the Chamber, a huge snake lying dead on the floor near me, and Ron was hugging me, pleading with me to be alive.”

Harry kissed the top of Ginny’s head. “How did you get back up to the school?” he asked.

“I don’t remember much of the journey out of the Chamber. It’s all a blur. Ron told me after the fact that Fawkes flew us back up the slide to Myrtle’s loo. To this day, I still avoid that corridor.

“Are you sure you want to do this tomorrow? I can do it with just Hermione if you want,” offered Harry.

Ginny thought for a moment. “No, I need to do this. I need to face these nightmares, once and for all.” She lifted her head to look up at him, a brave smile on her face. “And I know I can do it with you at my side.”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Ginny laid her head back down on Harry’s chest. “Thanks. Together, we can do this.”

***********

The next afternoon, the trio slipped quietly into the girls’ loo on the first floor, Harry under his Invisibility Cloak. Before slipping the cloak off, Harry muttered “Colloportus” to seal the door.

As he turned into the room, he heard, “A boy! A boy in the girls’ loo!” He looked around, trying to identify the source of the voice, and noticed a female ghost. She looked about their age, with dark hair in two braids on either side of her head, and glasses.

Ginny said, “Hi, Myrtle. It’s been a long time. You remember Hermione, don’t you? And this is, um, my friend, Colin Creevey. Colin, this is Myrtle. We’ve come to go down in the Chamber.”

“Are you sure? He looks a little like I’ve heard Harry Potter looks like, but he’s supposed to be dead,” Myrtle said suspiciously.

Harry became a little nervous that his secret would come out, but Ginny came over and put her hand on his forehead and whispered something under her breath before pulling Harry’s bangs up. “Colin gets that all the time, but see, no scar, so it couldn’t be Harry Potter. And, like you said, Harry Potter is dead. I saw him die. So the only way he could be here was as a ghost, and I know you can tell the difference between a ghost and a living human being.”

“Alright,” responded Myrtle hesitantly. “I guess I will leave you to it. Though I have no idea why you would want to go down in the Chamber. It gives me the collywobbles.” With that she floated through a cubicle door and went down the toilet, causing a splash of water onto the floor.

“Whew, that was close! I didn’t think of encountering her here. Quick thinking, Ginny, using that disguise charm on just Harry’s scar,” said Hermione.

Harry and Ginny pulled tiny brooms out of their pockets and enlarged them before Ginny showed Harry the entrance. They had decided that brooms were the best choice this time, since, while it was easy to get into the Chamber through the entrance, getting out was a challenge, and Fawkes, who had transported Ginny, Ron, and Dumbledore out last time, had not been seen since his familiar’s death. Hermione didn’t feel comfortable manoeuvring a broom down such a tight space, so she would just ride along. Together, Harry and Ginny hissed “Open” in Parseltongue. The tap, which had a small snake scratched into it, glowed white and then began spinning. The sink then sunk into the floor, revealing an opening to a large pipe. Feeling Ginny’s hesitation, Harry asked, Alright, Ginny?

Ginny shook her head to clear her thoughts. Yeah, it’s just harder to go down here than I thought it would be. It brings back all the old feelings.

Harry put his arm around her shoulders. Remember, he’s not here this time, and neither is the Basilisk. I’ll be with you all the way and, if the bad feelings start to overwhelm you, I’ll know. We will get through this.

Ginny took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before mounting her broom and disappearing into the pipe.

Harry looked over at Hermione, who had a knowing look on her face. “Good job, Harry. I wasn’t sure if she could do that. She hasn’t so much as set foot in this corridor since her first year.”

Harry felt his face warm. He mounted his 2C and said, “Hop on.” Hermione straddled the broom behind Harry. “Hold tight,” he said. As he steered the broom toward the opening, he added, “But not that tight.” He looked back at his rider with a grin on his face, but could see that Hermione had her eyes closed tightly and her face was white as a sheet. “I promise to take it easy, Hermione. Just relax.” Hermione took a deep breath and loosened her grip. “Are you ready?” asked Harry. Feeling Hermione’s head nod against his back, Harry started down the pipe, very slowly. As they followed the twisting path, Harry could see many pipes branching off of the main one, leading to who knows where. “Those pipes must be the way the basilisk slithered through the school,” said Harry.

At the bottom, they dismounted the broom and Harry could see in the dim light of Ginny’s wand that she was smirking. I was wondering if you were ever going to get her down here. You flew like a little old crone on an ancient Cleansweep One.

Harry gave a mental chuckle and told Hermione to dismount first.

As they put their feet on the ground, Harry heard a crunching noise under their feet. When he looked down, he saw that they were stepping on thousands of small rodent skeletons. “I guess there’s not much else to eat down here,” said Harry.

“When you see how big the basilisk is, you’ll be surprised there aren’t more remains down here,” said Ginny.

Harry and Hermione lit their wands and they began their walk down the tunnel, Hermione in the lead, Harry and Ginny, holding hands, a step behind. When they came around a bend, Hermione screamed, “What’s that?! Quick! Close your eyes!”

Ginny laid a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Relax, Hermione. That’s just the moulted skin of the basilisk that was down here,” said Ginny.

Hermione’s eyes went back and forth. “Wow, that thing is huge. I know I’ve heard the story, but seeing that skin really gives one a different perspective.”

“Wait until you see the real thing,” said Ginny. “Since it is a magical creature, it should look just like it did after Dumbledore killed it.”

“Explain to me why Dumbledore let Ron come with him down here.” asked Harry. “Especially after passing that basilisk skin, I would think that he would have sent him back immediately.”

Hermione chuckled. “Mrs Weasley had the same question when Ron and Dumbledore were explaining what had happened. I had just received the Mandrake Draught and had snuck out of the hospital wing while Madam Pomfrey was giving it to other victims. I arrived at the headmaster’s office about the same time as Ron, Ginny, and Dumbledore, so I was able to hear everything immediately. When Molly asked what Dumbledore was thinking, he just got that twinkle in his eye, you know the one, and said, ‘Mr Weasley insisted. I believe his exact words were, ‘It’s my sister down there! I’m bloody well going, too!’ I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Ron redder.”

“It’s a good thing, too,” said Ginny. “There is another doorway ahead that needs to be opened by Parseltongue.”

They walked on for what seemed like miles until they came around a bend and to a large stone wall that had two entwined snakes carved in it, emerald eyes glimmering in the reflected light from their wands.

Open,” said Harry, in a low hiss. When it pulled back, a large room was revealed. The ceiling was too high to be illuminated by their wands. Huge stone pillars decorated with more snakes rose into the darkness. In the centre of the room lay a huge snake, which Harry estimated was at least sixty feet long. Even though they knew it was dead, it still gave all three of them willies. As they continued to explore the room visually, they noticed at the back of the room a large statue of a man with an apelike face and a long beard that almost reached the ground. “That must be Salazar Slytherin,” said Hermione.

“So, where do we start to look?” asked Ginny.

“It could be anywhere. I guess we should start in the alcoves around the room,” said Hermione.

As they were each looking in a separate portion of the exterior wall, Harry heard a grating noise and then a hissing, “Ooh, bigger prey. Thesse will help with my hunger.

Harry quickly closed his eyes and yelled, “Close your eyes! Bat Ears Charm!” He then pointed his wand at his head and said “Chiroptera Auriculus,” Hermione had found this charm and had taught it to the DA this past spring. When cast, it would enlarge the ears, making you look a little like a house-elf, and then your wand would start sending out ultrasonic pulses that would then bounce back to the magically enlarged ears. The brain then interpreted the echoes and allowed the caster to “see” his or her surroundings. It was very effective in times of low light and you didn’t want to use Lumos, or when one encountered Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.

As soon as the charm was active, Harry could sense a large object diving at him. He dove to the right and heard a crash as the attacker hit the stone wall. While it was stunned momentarily, he could tell that the creature was a huge snake, obviously a small basilisk, “only” about twenty feet long. As it turned its head towards him and reared back to attack again, he could sense large four-inch long fangs in its opening mouth. He dove again to avoid another strike, but this time rolled over and was back on his feet quickly, aiming a Conjunctivitis Curse at the creature’s eyes. The basilisk shook its head and screamed in Parseltongue, “My eyess! My eyess! They ssting!

Harry responded, “If you promisse not to attack, I will remove the sspell,” holding his wand out in readiness to attack if the creature didn’t accept his offer.

The basilisk’s large head turned toward Harry and its mouth gaped open. “You are a masster! Yess, pleasse, masster, sstop the pain!

So Harry waved his wand and said “Finite Incantatem” before asking, “What do you mean by ‘masster’? How am I your masster?

Thank you, masster. My eyess feel much better. My lasst masster told me when I wass jusst a nesstling that a new massster who could sspeak to me would come, but that any who could not sspeak to me were enemiess and musst be destroyed. I have waited and protected for many yearss waiting for a masster to return.

By this time Hermione and Ginny had come to his side and the serpent asked, “Are thesse massterss too?”

“One of them iss, but the other iss with me and you musst not attack her, or I will causse your eyess to hurt again!

The basilisk bowed its head. “Asss you wissh, masster.

Ginny then asked, “You mentioned that you protected. What do you protect?”

“A large sstick. I know not why, but my lasst masster told me and my ssenior to protect it until a new masster came to take it. Have you come for it? Sshall I get it for you?

Harry and Ginny looked at each other in surprise. “Yess, pleasse,” said Ginny. The small basilisk, at least by basilisk standards, turned by and slithered across the room and up the wall before disappearing into a hole in the eye of the statue of Salazar Slytherin.

“Okay, we can open our eyes again,” said Harry. While it was gone, Harry and Ginny recapped their conversation with the basilisk for Hermione’s benefit. A few minutes later, they heard the grating sound again and they closed their eyes. A moment later, the serpent returned, bearing what seemed to be a long stick in its mouth. It returned to the trio and dropped the object at their feet. Harry and Ginny turned toward Hermione when she gasped and sensed that she had her mouth agape.

“What is it, Hermione?”

“Can you ask the basilisk to turn away so we can use our eyes safely?” Ginny did as requested and the trio opened their eyes again and studied what the basilisk had brought. The stick actually looked like a walking cane, except that it was about five feet long. It was made of a dark wood, and at the top was carved a snake head with jewels for eyes, complete with fangs that looked like they might be ivory.

“I think that it is the Serpent’s Staff,” said Hermione, wonder in her voice. “The story is that Salazar Slytherin sought to create the most powerful wand in the world, greater than even the Elder Wand. But I thought the story was a myth. This looks exactly like the stories describe it though. And it is exactly the type of object that Voldemort, who considered himself the Heir of Slytherin, would use to hide a part of his soul.”

Harry leaned down to pick it up, and dropped it immediately. “I’ve never felt anything like that; it shocked me and I felt all cold when I touched it, almost like when a Dementor is around. I could feel the magic in it, and it was very Dark.”

Hermione nodded. “I suspected that might happen, so we can put it in my rucksack where we will be protected from its magic,” said Hermione. She took the sack off her back and held it open. “Levitate it into the sack, Harry.” Harry did as he was told and magically the staff easily fit in the sack, even though the sack itself was barely two feet high.

They closed their eyes again and Ginny said to the basilisk, “Thank you; you can turn around again. ” When the basilisk faced them again, she said, “You have done uss a great service. What may we call you?”

“I am called Sshessha. Is there anything elsse I can do for you, masster and misstresss?”

“No, you have done plenty, Sshesshia. Is there anything we could do for you?”

The great serpent hesitated before answering. “I am sso hungry all the time. The ssmall ratss in my home do not ssatissfy me.”

What is it with snakes always asking us for food? thought Ginny, causing Harry to close his hand over his mouth to not laugh. “We have a friend who might be able to help you with more ssubsstansshial ssusstenansse. We will return ssoon if we can find food for you.

The trio walked back the way they came, Hermione carrying their prize on her back. “So, what do you suppose a twenty foot long basilisk would like for dinner?” asked Harry.

Back to index


Chapter 49: Battle at the Burrow

Author's Notes: As you have probably noticed, new chapters are coming at a slower rate. I have finally reached the part of the story that I do not have any pre-written scenes. I do have the rest of the story plotted, but having to write a chapter almost from scratch means fewer updates. My goal is to continue to post a chapter a week. Thanks again to Arnel for her help in making these chapters better.


Battle at the Burrow

On the last Saturday before the Christmas holidays, Ginny and Harry sat across from Professor McGonagall in her office. The professor was sitting in a wooden, straight-backed chair with arms, while they were seated in a similar chair, just built for two, like might be seen used as a park bench.

“I must commend the two of you on the successful procurement of the Serpent Staff,” began the Headmistress. “I know you were going to work with Miss Granger this morning on removing the part of his soul from it. Did you have any success?”

The couple’s heads both dropped. “No,” said Ginny. “It’s frustrating to all three of us. We just don’t understand what we are doing wrong.”

“Perhaps after the holidays I can observe you to detect any way to make the spell more effective.”

“That would be wonderful,” said Harry. “It’s obvious we need to do something differently.”

The Professor leaned forward. “Today, I want to introduce another branch of Transfiguration that might be helpful to you: self-transfiguration,” the Headmistress said as she began the session.

“Are you going to teach us how to become Animagi?” asked Ginny, obviously excited.

The corner of the Headmistress’ lips twitched a little, but that was the only reaction she showed. “While I don’t doubt that you could both achieve this feat, no, that is not what I have in mind. Becoming an Animagus is a long process and I don’t think we have the time for it. However, being able to change your appearance, especially your faces, could assist you, in particular you, Mr Potter, to evade detection.”

“I thought only Metamorphmagi can change their appearances.”

“Generally that is true because it takes a lot of power to do this and Metamorphmagi have the inherent ability to do this without great expenditures of energy, but I believe that your greater magical power will allow you to do this.”

“But we’re already good at glamour charms,” countered Harry. “I use them every day. How is this different?”

“Glamour charms have their limitations. They can both be detected and cancelled, while neither is true of transfiguring your appearance. Also, most glamour charms will cease when you lose consciousness or even fall sleep. Obviously, the ring you used last year is an exception, but we know what happened if the ring was removed. And the charms you are using currently to safeguard your identity are at risk, so learning this skill could save your life. I also think that your time at the Burrow over the holidays would be a perfect time to work on this skill.”

Harry cleared his throat. “Um, no offense, Professor, but are you the right person for this? Wouldn’t it make more sense for Tonks to teach us this skill?”

On the Headmistress’ face appeared a mischievous grin unlike any the couple had ever seen from the Professor before. “I assure you, Mr Potter, that I do indeed have the ability to teach this skill.”

From a door to the side out walked another Headmistress. “And I think your idea does have some merit.”

Harry and Ginny both drew their wands in an instant, Ginny pointing hers at the new arrival while Harry pointed his at the one sitting in front of them. ”What is going on here?” demanded Harry.

Slowly, the seated McGonagall’s black hair, tied back in a bun as usual, shortened and began to change into a fluorescent pink spiky hairdo. Then, her face started to morph, causing Harry and Ginny to gasp. A few moments later, Tonks was sitting in the Headmistress’ chair, laughing at the couple.

“You should see the looks on your faces!” giggled Tonks between snorts.

The real Professor waved her wand and another chair, a match to the one in which Tonks was sitting, appeared. As she sat, she explained, “Miss Tonks and I are going to work together in teaching you this. I have knowledge of the correct incantations, but Nymphadora can explain how it feels to change, since I am incapable of making the incantations work.” Tonks’ brows furrowed at the use of her given name, but held her tongue. The Headmistress waved her wand again and two hand mirrors appeared. “Let us start with hair colour.”

**********

“Come on, Cat, just a few more spoons of peas and then you can have your bottle.”

Her little face, covered in green already, was bunched up as tightly as she could make it, preventing the next spoonful from entering her mouth. Harry tried to squeeze the spoon past her lips, but was having no success. She shook her head, saying, “No. Ba-ba.”

“Maman says you have to finish your peas before your bottle. Please?” Harry pled with the little girl.

Harry had learned that part-Veela babies develop more quickly than humans, so, even though Catherine Harriet was only five months old, she already was crawling and had a vocabulary of about ten words. Up until recently, she had been content to stay in a baby carrier for periods of time, making it possible for her parents to bring her to Order meetings, but now that she was both mobile and vocal, she required too much attention. So, Harry had been called on to mind his namesake while her father attended an Order meeting that was being held at the Burrow and her mother was working at Gringotts. Since he still couldn’t be seen by the Order, and everyone else who would ordinarily watch Cat was going to attend the meeting, Harry had been the logical choice. Ginny, who had ridden the Hogwarts Express to London yesterday for the Christmas holidays, was going to join him after the meeting. Harry had enjoyed playing with Cat on the floor of Shell Cottage that morning, marvelling at the number of toys she had. Not that surprising, though, thought Harry. She is the first grandchild on both sides. I'm sure that both sets of grandparents are enjoying spoiling her. Lunchtime, however, had proved to be more of a challenge.

Harry decided to try another tack. He waved his hand and a small conjured butterfly flitted around just out of reach of Cat’s pudgy hands. As she reached for the pretty insect, she said, “Ooooh,” giving Harry the opening to slip another spoonful in her mouth. As soon as he pulled the spoon back out, Cat made her displeasure with Harry obvious by sticking out her tongue and uttering, “Pbbbllbbllppll,” sending green goo through the air.

“Yuck, Cat!” scolded Harry, wiping strained peas off his face. “No! You don’t do that!” he said sternly.

Cat tilted her head, looked at him with big eyes and a smile, batting her eyelashes, and said, “Ba-ba, pees.” Harry felt his resolve fading and even started to get up to retrieve her bottle, when he shook his head and blinked to clear his mind. That must be her Veela charm that Fleur warned me about, he thought with a chuckle. She’s going to be a handful when she gets older and can control it more.

“No, Cat, one more spoon of peas. Then you can have your bottle.” It seemed that Cat finally realized that she wasn’t going to be able to wrap Harry around her finger and opened her mouth obediently, swallowing the last spoonful of peas.

“Good girl. Now you can have your bottle.” He walked around the corner to the kitchen where her bottle was sitting on the counter. He had also been warned to make sure that the bottle was not in sight or Cat would use her magic to summon it. After handing her the bottle, which she grabbed enthusiastically and started sucking down immediately, he went into the loo to clean the rest of the peas off his face. He looked in the mirror and saw that he had peas all through his hair.

He felt a giggle in his mind. That’s a good look, Potter! I had no idea you had mastered our hair colour changing lessons from Tonks so quickly.

Oh, hush you! I managed to get more in her than on her or me, so I think I did just fine.

Oh, you did great. As I was watching, I couldn’t help thinking about what a good father you are going to be to our children. It was very sexy, by the way.

Harry felt his face warm. We can talk about that later. I need to get back to Cat before she finishes her bottle and starts using her magic.

Harry quickly cleaned himself and then returned to the sitting room where Cat sat in her high chair, still happily sucking her bottle. He used a Scouring Charm to clean the area around her instantly while she finished. Am I glad I have magic. That would have taken forever with a washrag.

Harry heard the sound of sucking air and noticed that Cat was done. She threw the bottle off to the side and raised her arms, saying, “Up.”

Harry chuckled at the insistent little girl. “In a minute. I need to get you cleaned up first.” Harry used a mild cleaning spell Molly had taught him, one she had used on Ginny when she was little.

When she was clean, Harry took her into the nursery and changed her nappy. As he was finishing, Cat yawned and rubbed at her eyes. “Are you sleepy? Maman said that you would probably take a nap after lunch.” He picked her up and held her against his chest, and she dropped her little head on his shoulder. He rubbed her back while swaying back and forth, and began to sing quietly.

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleep my little baby.

When you wake you shall have

All the pretty little horses.

Black and bays, dapples, grays,

All the pretty little horses.

After just a few minutes, Harry could feel Cat’s body totally relax against his chest, signalling that she was asleep. Enjoying snuggling with her, he continued to hold her for a little longer, but then reluctantly put her down in her cot, placing a small kiss on her forehead before leaving the room.

Harry sat down on the sofa and accessed Ginny’s senses to eavesdrop on the Order meeting. The first thing he heard was Hermione whispering, “Ginny, what’s wrong? Why are there tears in your eyes?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she whispered back. “Harry’s caring for Cat just touched me.” Darn you, Potter, you really are a wonderful man sometimes.

Only sometimes? teased Harry.

Shut it. I’m trying to pay attention here.

Yes, dear.

Ginny pulled her attention back to the current discussion, which was a debate on whether they should take the offensive and try to strike at the Death Eaters.

“If we keep just reacting to their attacks, we’ll never have a chance to defeat them,” said the former Defence professor, Alastor Moody. “We have to take the war to them!”

“But how do we do that?” asked Remus. “The only place we know anything about is Malfoy Manor, and we know that it is protected so well we wouldn’t have a chance getting in there. I don’t see what choice we have but to wait and see what they plan next.”

“We’ve been doing that for months now and all that has done is given them time to rebuild,” retorted the grizzled Auror. “We had them at their weakest back in September when we captured so many of them in Hogsmeade, but now we learn from Snape that they are recruiting and training new Death Eaters every day. We can’t let this continue!”

Suddenly a loud alarm was heard from outside the house. “That’s the unauthorized Portkey warning,” said Bill as he and Arthur jumped up, wands at the ready. The two dashed out the back door, followed closely by Tonks and Remus.

Bill, sprinted in the lead, gasped and screamed, “NOOO!!!” He then collapsed to his knees and wailed, “NOT HER!! PLEASE, NOT HER!!

Arthur caught up to Bill, wondering what had caused his son to react so emotionally, and looked out at the snow covered lawn. His heart stopped when he spotted a body about twenty feet from the door.

Arthur ran to the body, checking for any sign of life, but was not surprised when he found none. He looked down into Fleur’s blue eyes, which were staring lifelessly into space. He then surveyed the rest of her obviously tortured body, covered in bruises and lacerations. Her left forearm was bent unnaturally. But then his eyes were drawn to her exposed upper chest, in which the words, “I TOLD” had been slashed.

Arthur fought back tears as he reached down and gently closed her eyes. Knowing there was nothing else he could do for her, he stood quickly, turned back to the Burrow, and yelled, “Everyone, be ready! We are going to be attacked!”

Not a second later, a cacophony of noise thundered all around them as the rest of the wards around the Burrow collapsed, masking the sound of multiple pops as Death Eaters Apparated into the paddock surrounding the Burrow.

Ginny sent a thought to Harry as she started casting spells at the invaders. We’re under attack! Can you come?

What about Cat?

Dobby?

Great idea. I’ll be there as soon as possible.

Wear your Cloak. And be careful when you arrive.

You be careful, too. See you in a few.

After calling for Dobby and giving him quick instructions, Harry cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and then donned his Invisibility Cloak for extra cover and Apparated to the edge of the forest near the Burrow so he could survey the area and determine how to best help. What he found was a confusion of skirmishes between small groups of wizards and witches. He located Ginny instantly and saw that she was fighting with Ron and Hermione on the other side of the paddock. Ginny’s power was enabling her to have the upper hand, so he scanned the rest of the battlefield to see where he would be most useful.

Nearer to him, he saw two Death Eaters battling Arthur and Molly, but the elder Weasleys didn’t appear to be faring well as their two youngest. Arthur was on the ground, holding his hand over a bleeding wound on his thigh while Molly was trying to protect her husband and fight off both of the attackers herself. Harry considered entering the fray, but wanted to keep his presence secret for as long as possible.

Before he had a chance to formulate a plan, he heard one of the Death Eaters start the incantation for the Killing Curse, aiming at Arthur, who was unable to dodge, making him an easy target. Harry instantaneously conjured a one-inch thick steel plate and sent it flying through the air. It met the green light a few feet in front of the Weasleys, causing the light to splatter in every direction before dissipating.

Before the Death Eater could react, Harry whispered, “Serpensortia! ” conjuring a black mamba. “Attack the two-legss with black robess! ” he ordered the serpent as it came out of his wand.

Harry watched the olive snake disappear as it slithered quickly into the high grass. A few moments later, he saw its head poke up between the two Death Eaters. It struck the first Death Eater quickly, causing the wizard to spin around at the sudden pain in his calf. “Yaah!” he yelled when he saw the snake attached to his leg. He started to cast a spell at the snake, but Molly took advantage of his distraction, and he was struck by her Stunner before he had a chance.

The remaining Death Eater fired a purple spell non-verbally that caused Molly to dive to avoid it. He then raised his wand and said, “Avada …” but the incantation was cut off when the black mamba raised out of the grass, hissing and exposing its jet black mouth before striking his wand arm. The Death Eater dropped his wand reflexively at the pain. Meanwhile, Harry was running toward him and hit him with a Stunning Spell. After Vanishing the snake by saying, “Vipera Evanesca,” he bound both of the Death Eaters in ropes. He then casted the spell he had learned from Madam Pomfrey, “Venenum Abrogum,” at each of the unconscious wizards, removing the venom from their bodies.

“Molly, Arthur, are you alright?” he whispered as he approached his in-laws. Their heads spun around, looking for the source of the voice. “It’s me, Harry, under my Cloak.”

The couple both breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m okay,” said Molly. “Just a few bruises. But Arthur has a nasty gash on his thigh. I can stop the bleeding, but I don’t think he can walk on it.”

“Let’s get you two out of harm’s way, then,” said Harry. He cast Disillusioning Charms on the couple and helped Arthur limp to the edge of the forest where there was a large rock. Harry Banished the snow on the ground before helping Arthur down. He then cast Warming Charms on the couple before saying, “You two stay here until the battle is over. I’m going to see how else I can help.”

Harry crept along the edge of the tree line, knowing that if he went into the open, he would be at risk of being hit with stray wandfire. He then spotted Neville, who was duelling with Bellatrix Lestrange again, but this time he was faring much better. Harry watched as they traded spells, Neville putting to use the dodging practice to good use. However, eventually Bellatrix caught Neville with a Trip Jinx and he fell to the ground, his wand falling just out of reach of his hand.

The Death Eater witch stood over Neville cackling. “Ickle Longbottom has grown some teeth in the past few months, but not enough. Prepared to join your parents in St. Mungo’s?” she taunted as she pointed her wand at him.

Harry was just about to intervene when Neville kicked his leg violently, hitting Lestrange just above the stiletto heel on her black boot. Harry winced as he heard the loud crack, reminded of the pain he had felt when Neville had fractured his ankle. The witch screamed and fell to the ground, dropping her wand as she grabbed her ankle, writhing in pain. Neville rolled and grabbed his wand, reversing their positions so that he stood over her, pointing his wand at her menacingly.

Harry, who had already been approaching Neville and Bellatrix when Neville was on the ground, took another step so that he was standing next to Neville. “Remember what makes us different,” Harry whispered to his friend, all the while keeping an eye on Bellatrix to make sure she didn’t make a move.

Neville gasped and turned in the direction of the voice and asked to the wind, “Harry?” However, he quickly turned back to Bellatrix whose fingers were inching towards her wand. Neville instantly stepped heavily on the wand, and Bellatrix’s eyes widened as she heard the crack under his shoe.

“How dare you snap my wand?!” she screeched.

Neville flicked his wand and a gag appeared in her mouth. Another flick and an “Incarcerous” later, she was bound in ropes.

Harry, seeing that Neville had the situation well in hand, scanned the paddock again to see where he could lend some assistance. Before he had a chance to decide, several cracks were heard and all of the still fighting Death Eaters vanished, Disapparating as if on cue.

Harry jogged across the paddock to Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, crouched over to be careful not to go too fast and expose his feet under the Cloak. As he arrived, he was tempted to hug Ginny, but he resisted the impulse, knowing that there were several people present who did not know of his survival. Instead, he asked, Are you alright? as he sent a wave of comfort to her through their bond.

Yeah, I’m fine. How about you?

Not a scratch. I barely had to do anything. We should get Madam Pomfrey over to the other side of the paddock, though; your dad was hit with a Cutting Hex and has a nasty wound on his thigh. When he felt the panic from his wife, he quickly added, He’ll be fine. Your mum stopped the bleeding, but she couldn’t heal the deeper damage.

Ginny took a deep breath and calmed herself. She then looked over at her eldest brother, who was holding his dead wife in his arms, rocking back and forth and sobbing. I just wish there was a way to heal that damage, she thought sadly.

Before Harry could respond, he felt a chill travel down his spine. It was a December afternoon, so it was already cold, but the temperature was plummeting unnaturally. Harry spun around, his eyes searching the skies for the source of the change.

“Dementors!!” yelled Ron, who was pointing to the north. Dozens of the black-robed creatures were appearing over the trees, gliding down to give a Kiss to anyone they could find.

“Patronuses, everyone!” growled Moody.

Several incantations were yelled, and a warthog, a lynx, an otter, a Jack Russell terrier, two foxes, two wolves, a cat, and a doe all leapt up to fight off the Dementors. Harry was about to cast his own, but Ginny stopped him with the incantation on his tongue. Don’t, Harry! Everyone knows about your larger-than-life Mustang Patronus. If you cast it, your secret will be out! Besides, it looks like they have it handled.

Harry reluctantly agreed, finding it very hard to just sit back and do nothing. However, a few minutes later, he spied something that gave him pause. Ginny! Look! Four Dementors have split off from the group and are almost to Bill! he thought as he started running. He heard Ginny’s footsteps right behind him when they neared her brother.

Ginny cast her eagle Patronus, which was much larger than either of them remembered, and it dove after the Dementors, shredding two of them with its talons, and chasing off the other two. Just as she was beginning to relax, another wave of Dementors appeared out of nowhere, surrounding them.

Harry, I don’t think I can fight them all off by myself! cried Ginny through their bond.

There’s no choice, Ginny. I’ll cast mine as well.

Harry threw off his Cloak and the two yelled, “Expecto Patronum! ” simultaneously. They were both shocked when, instead of an eagle and a Mustang, the mist from their wands coalesced together and formed a twenty-foot high Hippogriff, which then attacked the Dementors with a vengeance. Its talons ripped some to shreds while others were slashed with the beak. Shortly, all of the Dementors were either destroyed or fleeing over the trees.

Ginny slowly walked over to Bill, who was still clinging to Fleur’s dead body, totally unaware of the Dementor attack. She knelt down next to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked over at her, his eyes bloodshot and his face covered in tracks of tears.

Ginny reached toward his hands and gently pried his fingers open so that she could tenderly lay Fleur on the snow covered ground. She conjured a sheet to cover her sister-in-law’s body, and then opened her arms to Bill. He collapsed against her, his head against her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. All Ginny could do was hold him as tightly as she could, trying to ease his pain.

Over the next few minutes, the rest of the Order walked up slowly, including Molly and Neville who was supporting Arthur. Molly, seeing her eldest son in Ginny’s arms, went over to them and, together, the two Weasley witches gently helped Bill up and led him into the house. As they reached the door, Molly said quietly, “I can take him up to his old room. Ginny, there is some beef stew on the stove. Make sure everyone has some lunch.” Molly looked back at the drained faces standing around and added, “And it looks like some hot chocolate is in order as well. That should take care of both types of chill that we are suffering from.”

After the trio went inside, everyone else just stood there, silent for a moment. Charlie took a deep breath, and pointed his wand at Fleur’s covered body, levitating her. “I’ll take her to Percy’s room.”

The remaining Order members stood still, hearing the wind whip around them. Moody eventually broke the silence by saying, “Tonks, let’s collect the bound Death Eaters and take them back to the Ministry.”

Tonks nodded and started to follow him when Fred spoke up. “Wait, we might be able to help you there.”

Everyone turned toward the twins, a little perplexed. “We’ve been expanding the variety of our paintballs,” George explained. Fred handed him a paintball gun that he had just summoned. “Our latest is a Portkey paintball. All you have to do is hit them with it, and, when it splatters on them, the Portkey magic is activated, and they are sent wherever you want. You just need to think of your destination while pointing your wand at them when you say the incantation Portus and they are activated.”

“Don’t Portkeys have to be authorized by the Ministry?” asked Charlie.

“Well, technically yes,” said Fred. “However, we have discovered that they don’t seem to have any way of tracking when a Portkey is made, so they don’t really have a way to enforce that law.”

“Besides,” added George, a cheeky smirk on his face, “when have we ever let a rule get in the way of one of our pranks?”

This brought the first chuckle of the day to many of the combatants. Moody and Tonks each received a paintball gun filled with pink paintballs (“Pink for Portkey,” Fred explained) and went about their duty. The rest of the Order trudged inside to warm up and eat the stew that Molly had made, although no one had much of an appetite, not even Ron.

**********

Harry followed Ginny into the Burrow silently while Fred and George explained their latest innovation. He found her at the stove and stole up behind her and gave her a hug from behind. I’m really sorry about Fleur. I know you didn’t get along with her at first, but you grew to love her as the big sister you never had.

Tears started to fall down Ginny’s cheeks and she leaned into the comfort Harry was giving her. I don’t know how Bill’s going to get through this. All I could think of when I was holding him was how lost I would feel if you died. The pain I felt last summer would pale to what I would feel now since we’ve completed the Bond.

Harry kissed her softly on the neck through the Cloak, which was a little awkward, but he pushed his love for her through their Bond and she felt it just as if the cloth wasn’t between them. We’ll just have to make sure that neither of us have to feel that for a very long time.

Harry looked out the window. It looks like they’re coming in; I better get back to Cat. Let me know when everyone is gone and I’ll bring her and all of her stuff. I’m guessing that your family is going to all want to stay close for the next few days.

Thanks. Love you.

Love you, too, he thought as he Apparated back to Shell Cottage.

A/N: Finally it is revealed why I changed Ginny's Patronus from canon. I liked the idea of Harry's Mustang and Ginny's eagle combining to form a hippogriff.

A/N2: The Patronuses are from, in order, Moody, Shacklebolt, Hermione, Ron, the twins, Remus and Tonks, Professor McGonagall, and Snape. Moody and the twins are my ideas, but the rest are from canon.

A/N3: Thanks to BobVosh for graciously allowing me to his idea of the Portkey paintballs.

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Chapter 50: Interrogations, Part I

Author's Notes: I had originally plotted the events of this day in one chapter, but as I was writing, it grew and grew, so it is now split into two. Thanks again to Arnel for all of her help; it's amazing how many times I can make the same mistakes, but she keeps correcting them without getting frustrated with me. At least as far as I know. ;)


Interrogations, Part I

The rest of the Christmas holidays were much more sombre than the previous year. Decorations were hung, the tree was trimmed, complete with the ornaments the Roberts had sent last year, and presents were exchanged, but it was obvious that everyone’s hearts were not in it. Bill, understandably, was quiet and withdrawn, and Cat was the only one who could make him smile. But, inevitably, she would eventually ask for Mama, and he would run from the room, leaving a very confused and upset little girl. For whatever reason, she seemed to respond best to Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny when she was in one of these states, so, the couple spent a lot of time taking care of their niece.

A few days before Ginny had to return to school, Harry had just put Cat down for her nap when he noticed that Bill and Ginny were having a talk in her room. He was about to continue down the stairs when he heard Bill call out. “Harry, please come in. This concerns you, too.”

Harry turned and sat down next to Ginny on their bed. Both the bed and the room had been magically expanded to allow the couple to stay there over the holidays. Bill was seated on a chair, his elbows leaning on his knees as he stared at the floor. When Bill didn’t say anything, Harry asked, What’s up?

I don’t know. He just said he wanted to talk to us, but not what it was about.

Harry cleared his throat after a few more moments of silence. Bill looked up, revealing eyes that were rimmed in red and there was some colour in his cheeks. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure how to start this, but I’ll just jump in. First, I want to thank you for all the two of you have done to help me out these last few weeks. Ginny, I’ve cried on your shoulder more than a few times. Harry, you are so wonderful with Cat. I know I’ve been neglecting her and you are helping to fill that void.” His eyes moistened a little as he smiled at his brother-in-law. “This morning when she woke up, she was calling for her ‘Unca’ ‘Awwy.’ She really loves you.”

He paused and swallowed before restarting. “Fleur and I were going to ask you this over the Holidays. As a matter of fact, before you ‘died,’ we were going to ask you this summer. Fleur and I decided to ask the two of you to be Cat’s godparents, to raise her if we, or now I, die. These past few weeks have just confirmed what we believed, that the two of you are going to be great parents, and we can’t think of anyone we would rather have raise Cat if we weren’t around.” He sniffed and wiped at the tears that were streaming down his face with his sleeve.

Ginny used a handkerchief to wipe at her own tears. “We’re flattered that you would choose us for this responsibility. We’d love to be Cat’s godparents. Wouldn’t we, Harry?”

Harry was a little more hesitant. “I am flattered, too, but have you thought this through, Bill? I love Cat, and would not hesitate to take care of her if we were able, but that’s the stumbling block. Will we be able to? I know you remember the prophecy. It says that either Voldemort dies or I do. And if I die, then Ginny does, too, because of our Bond. What happens if I fail and Voldemort wins?” Harry dropped his head and his voice fell to almost a whisper. “Maybe someone else, like Percy and Audrey, would be a safer choice.” Ginny reached over and squeezed his hand, feeling the pain that he felt in turning down Bill’s request.

“Harry, look at me,” said Bill. When Harry raised his face, Bill continued. “Fleur and I did consider the prophecy in this decision. I’ve seen you develop over the last year. I’ve been on missions with you. I’ve seen the magic you and Ginny can do together. I have no doubts, whatsoever, that you will defeat the bastard that took my wife from me and Cat’s mum from her. As a matter of fact, I’m counting on it. That is why I want you to be Cat’s godparents, because I know that the two of you, once you banish Ol’ Snake-Face from the face of this earth, will have a long, love-filled life together, and I couldn’t ask for a better couple for Cat to live with.”

Harry sighed and blinked back the tears that threatened to come. “Thanks for that vote of support, Bill.” He looked over to Ginny and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Do you want to do this? When she nodded, Harry squeezed her hand, and turned back to Bill. “Bill, we would be honoured to be Cat’s godparents.”

Ginny stood up and pulled her brother into a hug. When she released him, Harry held out his hand to Bill, which Bill grasped, but he pulled the younger man into a hug as well. “We’re family now, Potter, in more ways than one.” After a few pats on the back, Bill whispered in Harry’s ear, “Thank you.”

Harry and Ginny started to leave the room when Bill stopped them. “I have something else I want to discuss with you. Please, have a seat.”

After they had sat down again, both Harry and Ginny noticed Bill’s face change, as if a shadow crossed over it. His jaw was set, his brow furrowed, and they could see the tension throughout his body. Is he angry? thought Harry.

I don’t know, responded Ginny. I’ve never seen him like this.

Bill took a deep breath, staring at the floor, and said, “I don’t know how I’m going to get through this, life without Fleur, but my thoughts are consumed with wanting to take him down.” His fists clenched and relaxed several times before he continued. “I know I can’t, that it has to be you, Harry, but I want to do everything that I can to help you defeat him.

“On that topic, it’s wonderful that you now have the Staff, but what I am confused about is why you are having so much trouble with the spell to remove his soul from it. Hermione has been a little vague in Order meetings, which I understand, since everyone doesn’t know all the details about it, especially that Harry is alive. She just keeps saying that she is working on it, but I guess most of us that do know about Harry had just assumed that as soon as you found the soul container you would perform the spell and be done with it. But it seems like you’re taking forever. Why are you delaying? This could all have been over weeks ago.”

Noticing the look of guilt on Ginny and Harry’s face, he quickly added, “Don’t take that the wrong way; I don’t blame you for Fleur’s death. I lay that all at Voldemort’s feet. But you three are all still teenagers. Can you show me what problems you are having? Maybe I can help. Perhaps I can look at the instructions in the book. After all, runes and curse-breaking are sort of my specialties,” he said with a smirk.

Ginny and Harry looked at each other, gobsmacked. “Why didn’t we think of that?” asked Harry.

Ginny smirked. “Maybe because our standard reaction to something we don't know is to say, 'Let's ask Hermione. She'll know. And if she doesn't, she'll research it and figure it out.' We’ve always relied on Hermione to know everything. It’s easy to forget that she only finished school six months ago,” she suggested.

“Bill, we really appreciate your offer,” said Harry. “Perhaps you can meet with Hermione and us the first Saturday after school starts.”

“Why not start now?” asked Bill.

“Hermione has the original book and scrolls and scrolls of notes, and I think she keeps them at the Department of Mysteries. And you know that she’s unavailable currently,” said Ginny.

“Yeah, she’s off skiing in France with her parents and Ron on a post-Christmas holiday.” Bill chuckled. “Ron certainly was terrified of going. He’s never spent much time with his in-laws-to-be, not to mention he’s never been skiing. I hope he comes back with all of his bones intact.”

“They aren’t returning until after I go back to school. We already scheduled some time with her that Saturday in the Room of Requirement,” explained Ginny.

“The Room of Requirement?” asked Bill.

Ginny smiled. “That’s right, you never found that place in your years at Hogwarts. It’s a magical room that you can ask to be just about anything you want it to be. It’s a secure place where Harry can come and train. One of the traits of the magic of the room is that it won’t allow anyone in except people that the person who configured the room allows. So, no one can come in if we’re using it unless we let them.”

“It can be anything you want?” asked Bill.

“Yep,” said Harry. “Quite useful.”

“I can imagine,” said Bill, obviously thinking of various uses. “There are just so many possibilities.” His eyes narrowed as he added, “You two haven’t been taking advantage of this room to be alone, have you?”

Ginny laughed. “Bill, we are married, you know. And I live in the Head Girl suite with permission for Harry to visit me every night. We don’t exactly need to use the Room of Requirement for couple time anymore.”

“Anymore?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

Ginny’s face turned beet red. “Well, we did use it occasionally last year,” Ginny said sheepishly.

“But we didn’t do anything inappropriate,” Harry added quickly. “Remember that the one way to sever our Bond was to have premarital sex. We behaved, wizard’s oath,” he said, raising his right hand.

Bill grinned. “Just taking the mickey out on you. I trust the two of you. Remember what we were talking about earlier?”

Ginny and Harry relaxed and chuckled.

**********

Ginny was finishing dinner on her first night back at school when Professor McGonagall approached her. “Miss Weasley, I require your presence in my office this evening at eight. Please ask Mr Cadwallader to accompany us.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” As the Headmistress left, Ginny arose and gave Alistair the message before heading back to the Gryffindor common room to compare notes on the Holidays with some of her friends. At the appointed time, she met Alistair at the gargoyle and gave the password, “Jim Hawkins,” a character from a book written by the Headmistress’ favourite Scottish author. They rode the circular staircase up to her office and, finding the door already open, they entered.

Professor McGonagall looked up from some parchment on her desk when they arrived and smiled. “Excellent. Punctual as usual,” she said. “Please have a seat.” She waved her hand in the direction of the chairs in front of her desk while she walked around it and took her usual chair across from them. When they were all seated, she leaned forward to address them. “The three of us have been asked to go to the Ministry tomorrow to testify before the Wizengamot. The Death Eaters who were captured when they attacked the school this fall are finally going to trial. Apparently, they would like our accounts of the day.” Ginny’s heart began to beat harder as her nerves started to get the better of her. She looked over to Alistair and noted that he looked a little pale as well. Professor McGonagall must have noticed this too, since she smiled gently and added, “There is nothing to worry about. Just be honest and tell the truth and you will be fine. The Death Eaters are the ones who should be nervous, not you. I have full faith that the two of you will represent Hogwarts well.”

She arose from her chair. “We will meet here after breakfast and travel via the Floo Network to the Ministry. Wear your nicest school robes. Now, back to your rooms; I want both of you to be well rested in the morning.”

A while later, as they cuddled in bed that night, Harry shared his memories from his trial and tried to reassure Ginny. “You’ll do great. I’m sure the Professor will be with you the whole time. Besides, it’s not like you’re on trial.”

“I know; you’re right. I just need to calm down and put it out of my mind.”

“Can I suggest something to distract you?” asked Harry as he waved his hand, dimming the lights in her room, before pulling her body toward his.

**********

Ginny stepped out of the Floo into the Ministry Atrium first. She quickly moved out of the way and used a cleaning charm to remove the soot off of her robes. Alistair and Professor McGonagall followed soon after, and the trio walked to the Security Desk, which was manned by a small man with a five o’clock shadow who was wearing peacock blue robes.

“Good morning, Mr Munch,” said the professor.

The man looked startled to see a former teacher. “G-good morning, Professor. Wands, please,” he said.

Alistair looked uncomfortable as to what to do, so Ginny asked in a whisper, “Have you ever been to the Ministry before?” When he shook his head, she explained while Professor McGonagall went through the screening first. “That’s alright; I’ve been here plenty visiting my dad. These are just some security measures. First, they check your wand in that device,” she explained, indicating a brass instrument on which the professor was laying her wand. The apparatus printed out a slip of parchment that read, ‘Fir, nine and a half inches, dragon heartstring core, in use since 1947.’ “Then, they use a Probity Probe,” Ginny continued as the guard was waving what looked like a four-foot long gold wand around the Professor, “to make sure you are not using any concealment spells or carrying any Dark objects. It’s all painless,” she smiled reassuringly. Once he understood, Alistair submitted to the protocol while Ginny went last.

They then took the lifts down to level ten. When they walked into the corridor, they found that an Auror was waiting for them. “Professor McGonagall,” he said as he reached out a hand to her, “it’s good to see you again. It has been a long time.”

“It has indeed been a long time, Mr Proudfoot. I don’t think I have seen you since you finished Hogwarts in 1972. Are your Transfiguration skills any better than they were in school? I remember that I was actually quite surprised that you received the required ‘Exceeds Expectations’ on your N.E.W.T.s.”

The Auror became quite pale at the comment from his former teacher and sputtered, “Y-yes, Ma’am, I have w-worked on them considerably over the last twenty years.”

“I am pleased to hear that, Mr Proudfoot. Just be sure to keep up your efforts.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I will.” He stood up straighter and gathered himself. “Anyway, are these the two students who are testifying with you today? I was told to escort you to a holding area near the courtroom.”

Professor McGonagall gave him a short nod and said, “Then you should take us there. After you, Mr Proudfoot.”

The Auror turned quickly and began walking down the corridor. Ginny, next to Professor McGonagall, noticed a small smirk on the Headmistress’ face as they followed the Auror. The professor leaned down and whispered in Ginny’s ear, “I never did like his attitude in class,” she said with a wink.

They were shown to a small, dark room with no decoration or adornments and wooden benches lined the three walls opposite the door. Just inside the door, a tall, thin man was seated in a chair. “Please have a seat. The guard,” indicating the man in the chair with a wave of his hand, “will bring you to the courtroom when they are ready for you,” said Proudfoot as he left, closing the door behind him.

“Is this normal procedure, Professor McGonagall?” asked Ginny.

“Silence!” ordered the guard. “Witnesses are not allowed to confer while waiting to testify.”

The Headmistress shook her head subtly, and Ginny received the message: this was not normal.

A few minutes later, a paper airplane flew through a slot in the door. The guard opened the message and stood. “Miss Weasley, you are up first. Please follow me.”

Ginny did as she was told and she was led through a door into a courtroom. Just inside the doorway, the guard stopped her. Ginny looked around the room, which appeared just as it had in Harry’s memories. The only difference was at one end of the room there was a line of chairs, in which sat seven wizards and a witch, all with chains on their wrists.

She looked up when she heard a gavel bang. A man several rows above her announced, “I call to order this judicial session of the Wizengamot this fourth day of January 1999. Pius Thicknesse presiding. May the record indicate that the Wizengamot has not yet managed to elect a new Chief Warlock, so, as Minister of Magic, I am presiding. This is day two of the case of the Ministry against Alecto Carrow, Amycus Carrow, Heinrik Crabbe, Xander Goyle, Minax Jugson, Evan Rosier, Thorfinn Rowle, and Nicholai Selwyn, who have all been charged with kidnapping, and attempted assault of minors. Guard, please bring in the first witness for the day.”

The guard roughly grabbed Ginny’s elbow and led her to the witness stand and gave her a nudge to sit down. He then turned and left by way of the same door through which they had just entered. Ginny’s eyes were taking in her surroundings when the Minister’s voice gained her attention. “Mr Yaxley, your witness.”

A tall man with greyish blond hair pulled back in a ponytail stood from behind a table to her right and walked toward her. “Please state your name and age for the record,” he said.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, seventeen.” Actually, Potter, but I can’t exactly say that, can I?

“Your occupation?”

“I am a seventh-year student at Hogwarts. I am also Head Girl.”

“Very well, Miss Weasley. Can you please tell us about the events of the second of September of last year?”

Ginny took a moment to compose her thoughts. “I was in class when I received a summons to come to the Headmistress’ office. When the Head Boy and I arrived, she explained that she had received information that there was an imminent attack against the school. She asked us to assist in the evacuation of the students.”

Yaxley began pacing slowly back and forth around the courtroom, his hands behind his back. “Do you know from whom the Headmistress received this information?”

“From an Auror, Roberts, I believe his name was.”

“Please continue.”

“After the students were all evacuated we reported back to the Headmistress. We heard a distant boom, in the direction of Hogsmeade, and the Headmistress led the faculty to assist in the fight.”

“And what about you and the Head Boy?”

“We were told to stay in the Headmistress’ office with Auror Roberts.”

“But you didn’t stay in the office, did you?”

“No, we didn’t. We discovered that some first-years had become lost and had not been evacuated. We gathered them and saw that the Death Eaters were coming, so Auror Roberts came up with a plan to fight them off.”

"What was this plan?”

“He had some experimental new weapons that shot small balls filled with potions. These potions had various effects once they make contact with someone. We moved the plinths of the suits of armour to make a wall to protect us, and then, when the Death Eaters entered the school, we shot them with the weapons. The Death Eaters were disabled fairly quickly.”

“How many of these alleged attackers were there?”

“About twelve.”

He addressed the court scribe for a moment. “Let the record show that there are eight defendants present here today. Three others arrested that day, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, and Antonin Dolohov were Azkaban escapees, and have been returned there to finish their lifetime sentences.” He then turned back to Ginny and waved his hand toward the table of defendants. “Do you recognize any of these alleged attackers in the courtroom today?”

Ginny looked over to the table of defendants. “I didn’t see all of them, but I do recognize a few of them. The one on the far right, the third one from the right, and the next to last one. I am sure those three were there that day.”

“After the alleged attackers were ‘disabled,’ as you said, what happened next?”

“We bound them, collected their wands, and gave them to Auror Roberts.”

“I see.” He paused as he continued to stroll around the courtroom.

Harry, are you listening? I don’t like the way this is going. This Yaxley gives me an uncomfortable feeling.

Yeah, I’ve been paying attention. I agree. Especially the way he keeps stressing the word ‘alleged.’

Before she could respond to Harry, Yaxley continued his questioning. “Now that we know your version of the events, I want to ask some follow-up questions. Do you know why these alleged attackers came to the school? Why were they supposedly attacking?”

“To kidnap me.”

He turned quickly, a look of surprise on his face. “Really? Why would they want to kidnap you? I don’t want to offend you, but I know your father and he does not make much money. Certainly you couldn’t command much of a ransom.”

“Voldemort wanted me for some reason.” Many gasps could be heard from around the courtroom at Ginny’s use of the Dark Lord’s name.

When the courtroom quieted down, Yaxley put a hand to his chin. “I see.” He took a few more steps before continuing. “Why would He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ‘want’ you? Again, no offense, but you aren’t exactly his type, are you?” His face turned into a leer. “Or are you? Are you considering turning Dark and joining him?”

Ginny’s temper started to flare. Ginny! Don’t let him rile you. Just calm down. She took a deep breath before responding. “No, I am not turning Dark. We don’t know why he wants me.”

“Who is this ‘we’ you just mentioned?”

Ginny gulped. I can’t tell him about the Order or Snape, she thought. “My family. Professor McGonagall. We’ve been trying to figure it out, but we haven’t come up with an answer.”

Yaxley acted like he was considering this for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Alright. Let’s turn to another part of your testimony. Let’s talk about this ‘attack.’ How did you know that you were under attack?”

Ginny’s temper was starting to simmer again. “Twelve Death Eaters came in through the front doors of the school with their wands out! That’s how we knew!”

“Miss Weasley, can I ask you to not refer to the defendants as ‘Death Eaters’? This point has not been proven. How did you know that they were supposedly Death Eaters? Were they wearing masks?”

Ginny hesitated for a moment. “No, they weren’t, but …”

“That was a yes or no question, Miss Weasley. Were they wearing masks?”

Ginny’s shoulders dropped. “No.”

“I see. Then, twelve ‘Death Eaters’, as you keep calling them, came in through the doors of the school. So, how did you know they were hostile? Did they start throwing Dark curses at you? Or did you and your schoolmates fire first?”

Ginny thought for a moment. “I don’t remember.”

“Would it surprise you that they, in fact, did not cast any curses?” He walked back to his table and picked up a parchment, levitating it up to the Minister. “Members of the Wizengamot, as you may recall, Miss Weasley testified that the alleged attackers’ wands were confiscated. I had one of Aurors cast Prior Incantato on all of the confiscated wands. This parchment is a record of the most recent spells cast by each of these wands. Several of them showed that they had not been used for over twenty-four hours. The ones that had been used had only cast Protego. None of those wands cast even one spell that could be considered offensive, and certainly nothing Dark.”

He turned back to Ginny. “Now, refresh my memory. Who all was there in the Entrance Hall behind this makeshift wall?”

“The Head Boy, Alistair Cadwallader, Auror Roberts, seven first-years, and myself.”

“Let me get this straight. You claim that a dozen wizards and witches, supposedly evil Death Eaters, all well trained in the use of their wands, bent on attacking the school and kidnapping you, were defeated by two seventh-year students, seven first-year students, and one Auror. I find that hard to believe. Isn’t it more likely that these citizens came into the school not expecting a fight? This would explain why you were able to disable them so easily.”

“We were able to beat them because of the weapon that Auror Roberts provided.”

“Oh, yes, the experimental weapon. I’ll come back to that. Now, the wizards and witches, all from upstanding pure-blood families, may I add, not unlike your own, none of whom were wearing masks, enter the school to kidnap you. But none of them fired any curses or hexes that would indicate that they had evil purposes.” He walked over to Ginny and bent over, his face just inches from her face. “Can you explain why you fired upon them first? I ask again, how did you know you were under attack?

Ginny leaned back in her chair to get as far away as possible from her questioner. “We knew they were coming. Their plans were overheard that morning.”

Yaxley stood upright and began strolling again. “Right, the overheard plans. Where did the information about the supposed attack come from again?”

“Auror Roberts.”

“Auror Roberts,” he parroted. “The same Auror Roberts who supplied these experimental weapons.” He turned back to Ginny and asked, accusingly, “Would it surprise you to learn that I, the head of the Auror Department, have never heard of the type of weapon that you describe?” Before she could answer, he said, “No, I don’t suppose you would be surprised. Back to Auror Roberts. Could you describe him for me?”

“He’s about six feet tall. He has shoulder length blond hair, brown eyes, I think.”

“Do you know where he overheard these plans?”

“I think Professor McGonagall said that he was in Hogsmeade and saw Draco Malfoy, so he followed him until he came upon the meeting.”

“Do you know why he was in Hogsmeade, where he allegedly saw Draco Malfoy?”

Ginny was starting to get more nervous. She could feel the sweat starting to form on her upper lip. “I don’t’ know for sure. I think Professor McGonagall said that he was working undercover there.”

“Alright. So, as I understand it, would it be accurate to say that the whole reason you attacked these alleged kidnappers was based on the information from Auror Roberts? Was there any other information that led you to believe that these men and women were going to attack?

Ginny sighed. “No, the only information we had was from Auror Roberts.”

Yaxley continued to walk around the courtroom, but there was a new lift to each step, almost like he was strutting. “Auror Roberts. Auror Roberts. It all comes down to him, doesn’t it? He supplied the information that led you to attack these wizards and witches, while all they did was act in self-defence. He supplied the weapons that allowed nine students, most of them first-years, to defeat twelve experienced adults.” Again he closed the distance between himself and Ginny and he leaned over, staring right at her. “Would it surprise you if I said that I know for a fact that we have no Auror named Roberts? And there are no undercover Aurors in Hogsmeade?” He stood upright again, addressing the assembled gallery in a raised voice. “Auror Roberts is an imposter! We need to arrest this madman that ordered this unprovoked attack immediately!”

Ginny, fighting back the panic that was threatening to overcome her, sent an urgent message.

Harry! Listen to me! YOU NEED TO LEAVE IMMEDIATELY!

Back to index


Chapter 51: Interrogations, Part II

Author's Notes: Here is the rest of the day's events, this time from Harry's point of view.


Interrogations, Part II

After showering and eating a breakfast supplied by Dobby, Harry went down to the shop about the same time Ginny was arriving at the Ministry. He arrived earlier than usual because there were a number of signs that the twins wanted him to post around the shop. Today was their annual after-Christmas clearance sale, so the special deals had to be marked clearly. While he was making preparations for opening for the day, he eavesdropped on Ginny’s activities. He chuckled at Professor McGonagall’s intimidation of her former students and appreciated how she had gone out of her way to form a relationship with him from day one.

He was able to follow the first parts of Ginny’s questioning, and was not surprised when she told him that Yaxley was giving her an uncomfortable feeling. Unfortunately, shortly afterwards, he looked up and saw that it was time to let in the customers. He was a little surprised to see several people waiting to enter as soon as he unlocked the door. Guess the advertising for this sale worked, he thought. He was extremely busy serving customers and was unable to follow what was occurring at the trial, but he did notice when she had flares of anger or anxiety. Once her anger seemed to be getting the best of her, so he sent her a message to not let him to rile her. It seemed to work as she calmed fairly quickly.

As he continued to keep up with all of the shoppers, he did notice her nervousness seemed to be increasing. Had I known about this, I would have asked for the day off. I really wish I could pay more attention to what is happening to her.

The initial rush seemed to be over as he waited on a mother with her twin daughters, probably around six years old. He kneeled down to be eye to eye with the girls. “I hope you enjoy your Pygmy Puffs. Promise me you’ll take good care of them. They really like to be brushed daily,” he said with a smile as he handed them their new pets.

The two girls’ eyes widened and they both nodded. “Oh, we will,” they said in unison.

Harry stood back up and handed the mother a sack with the brushes as well as two small cages for the miniature Puffskeins. As she reached to take the sack, Harry leaned over and whispered, “Make sure you keep them in their separate cages. They reproduce faster than rabbits if you don’t watch them closely.” The mother nodded in understanding and led her girls toward the door.

As the family left, he noticed that there was only one couple left in the shop and he took a deep breath, relaxing for the first time since he opened the shop. The couple was just browsing for a few minutes, but then came up to the counter.

“May I help you?” asked Harry.

Before they answered, Harry heard a message from Ginny in his mind. Harry! Listen to me! YOU NEED TO LEAVE IMMEDIATELY!

Why? he responded, trying to have two conversations at once.

I think some Aurors are going to come to arrest you!

Okay. I’ll leave as soon as I finish with these customers.

The man pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry. “Put your hands where I can see them,” he ordered. As Harry slowly raised his hands, he noticed the woman cast a spell at the door and he heard a squelch, indicating that it had been secured.

NOW!! Harry winced in pain at the insistence of Ginny’s message. Apparate away! Anywhere but here! insisted Ginny.

Harry concentrated and attempted to Apparate to the Burrow, but found that he couldn’t. There must be anti-Apparition wards up, he thought.

The man took out a wallet with an identification card. “I am Auror Dawlish, and this is Auror Savage. We have been asked to bring you to the Ministry for investigation of impersonating an Auror. Where is your wand?” he asked holding out his hand.

Thinking quickly, he said, “I keep it here under the counter.”

He started to bend over to retrieve one of the Weasleys’ fake wands, but before he could move more than a few inches, the Auror directed, “Stay where you are! Savage will get it.”

Harry stood upright again and the female Auror walked around the end of the counter. “Where is it?” she asked.

“In the drawer to the left,” Harry responded. She opened the drawer and removed the wand that was there before walking back around to the front of the counter.

Both Aurors now had their wands pointed at him. “Now, come out here so we can transport you to the Ministry.”

Harry asked sheepishly, “Could I use the loo first? I had a full pot of tea this morning and haven’t had a break since I opened.”

Savage went over to the lavatory and inspected it first. When she signalled that it was clear, Dawlish waved his wand and said, “Go ahead, but be quick about it. We need to get you to the Ministry as soon as possible.”

Harry closed the door and quickly removed his wrist holster and wand. The holster, which was invisible and made his wand invisible as well, had been a Christmas present from Charlie. I want to make sure that they can’t confiscate my real wand, he thought. After stowing the wand and holster behind the toilet, he flushed and washed his hands before coming back out into the main shop. “May I lock up first?” he asked.

Dawlish rolled his eyes and said, “Yes, but quit stalling.” Harry first turned the open sign over so that it showed the shop was closed and pulled down the shades on the windows. He then went over to the front door and closed the dead lock. As he turned, he saw the questioning look on the two Aurors. “My two bosses feel that Muggle locks are more likely to keep wizards out than spells,” he explained.

Dawlish removed a wooden spoon from his robes and held it out. “Grab hold and we will be transported to the holding area at the Ministry.” Harry complied and Savage grasped the spoon as well. Dawlish activated it with his wand, and the next moment, they were in a small room with cinder block walls. Dawlish kept his wand trained on Harry while Savage went to the corner of the room and retrieved a long golden rod that was mounted on the wall. She waved it around Harry and it began to glow bright blue when it neared his face. “It appears he is using a glamour,” she said.

“Well, we’ll just need to cancel that, won’t we?” said Dawlish. As he began to wave his wand at Harry, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on his lessons with the Headmistress and Tonks. “Finite Incantatem,” he heard Dawlish say and felt a tingling in his face and scalp. When he opened his eyes, he saw both Aurors had looks of astonishment on their faces.

Darn, it didn’t work! he thought.

“Why would you use a glamour to just change your hair colour from red to blond?” asked Savage.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. I did it! His goal was to maintain his facial appearance while altering his hair colour, but he had never successfully performed that complicated a self-transfiguration before. “My bosses, as you may be aware, are famous for their red hair. They won’t allow any of their employees to have red hair so that there will not be any confusion as to who the owners are,” Harry explained. Both of the Aurors shook their heads at the egos of the Weasley twins.

Nice improvisation, Potter! Harry heard through the Bond. I’m still stuck here at the Ministry, but I’ll let you know when I’m back at school so you can get out of here.

“Savage, please go fill out the paperwork while I begin the questioning of the prisoner.” She left through the wooden door, leaving Harry alone with the male Auror. As soon as the door slammed shut, his face took on an evil leer. “I think I am going to enjoy this. Mister Yaxley has given me permission to use any means necessary to learn your secrets.

“Now, we know that your real name isn’t Aaron Roberts. There is no record of any Aarons being born to the various Roberts families in England. We also know that you never attended Hogwarts. If you tell me who you really are, maybe we can avoid any unpleasantries.”

Harry considered his options. But before he could decide, his body was consumed with pain in every nerve ending of his body. After an indeterminate amount of time, the curse was lifted. He found that he was lying on the floor, panting as he attempted to sit back up, but found that he was unable to even do that simple action. He lifted his head and saw the glee evident in the Auror’s face. “Thank you. I was hoping I would get to do that. Here’s your next chance to come clean. Who are you?”

Seeing Dawlish’s wand hand start to move again, Harry closed his eyes in preparation for another Cruciatus Curse. The unbearable pain began again, but after just a few seconds, the pain decreased. It was still present and unpleasant, but it had decreased by about half. He opened his eyes and saw Dawlish was still holding the curse on him, but decided to continue to act as if he was in excruciating pain. When Dawlish finally released the curse, he stayed on the floor on his side, breathing heavily. On a hunch, he reached out to Ginny and was only mildly surprised to note that her body was aching as well. What did you do, Ginny? he asked.

I just shared the pain through our Bond. I figured that if I could sense your pain, perhaps I could take some of it away.

You really shouldn’t have done that. I can handle the pain.

But you shouldn’t have to. Please let me help you.

Harry realized that this was an argument that he was going to lose and sighed. Thanks, Ginevra, he sent back to her. I love you.

I love you, too.

Harry sat up, which was much easier now than it had been after the first curse, but he acted like he was struggling.

Dawlish continued to recast the Cruciatus over and over again, each time asking for Harry’s real name, but never actually giving him a chance to answer before restarting the torture. After the third or fourth time, Harry received a message from Ginny. I’m back in my suite. Come to me!

Harry responded, I can’t, Ginny. We don’t want them to know that we can travel this way. I’ll just wait until they leave me alone and escape then. Dawlish continued to curse Harry with the Cruciatus and Harry and Ginny’s sharing of the pain was starting to fail as both were developing extremely sore muscles. Ginny, is Professor McGonagall still with you? asked Harry.

Yes, she insisted on staying with me until you are back here safely.

Send her off to Madam Pomfrey. I think we’ll both need some pain-relieving potions when this is all done.

As Dawlish continued to torture Harry, suddenly the door slammed open and another man stepped into the room. That’s Yaxley! Ginny informed Harry.

“Dawlish, out!” Yaxley ordered. “I’ll show you how to deal with an uncooperative prisoner!” Harry, weakened by the series of Cruciatus Curses, was unable to react before Yaxley had crossed the room, grabbed the front of his robes, lifted Harry from the ground, and then hit him with an upper cut to the jaw, sending him flying across the room.

Harry shook his head as he struggled to get up on all fours and looked up at his new torturer.

Yaxley was rubbing his right fist with his left hand with a smile on his face. “Sometimes primitive methods of inflicting pain are so much more satisfying.” Yaxley took a step toward him and kicked him in the ribs. Harry felt at least one crack, and he was having a hard time taking a deep breath.

Before Harry knew what was happening, his body was yanked upright, his wrists were shackled, and his arms were held out by chains fastened to opposite walls of the small room. Yaxley approached Harry, their noses almost touching. “Roberts, or whoever you are, I’ve heard more than I ever wanted to about you today. The students and the Headmistress, all praising your efforts in catching those Death Eaters, all without a casualty on the Light side. Dawlish was trying to get the truth out of you, you know what? I don’t give a shite!” Harry backed his face away as he felt the spittle hit his face. “I don’t care who you are. I just want you to receive what you deserve for denying my Lord what he wanted: that Weasley bitch.” Harry heard Ginny gasp in his mind when Yaxley confessed that he was one of Voldemort’s minions.

Yaxley stepped back and his voice calmed. “While Dawlish’s methods work on many wizards, I prefer other means.” He pulled something out of his robes and lifted the object to show Harry. It was a black wooden handle with several cords attached to one end. “Do you see this? It’s called a cat o’ nine tails. Muggles in the British navy invented it. I’ll have to admit it, some Muggles are truly ingenious when it comes to torture. Each of these cords has a knot at the end of it, and in the knot, there is small piece of bone, designed to tear the skin even more efficiently.”

Harry began to pale, realizing what was going to happen. Yaxley grinned evilly. “So that frightens you, does it?” Harry, please! Come to me! I don’t care if they learn about our ability! Harry took a deep breath and concentrated on Ginny and attempted to Apparate to her. He could feel the start of the process but then, it was if his wrists were being ripped apart and he could not continue it.

I can’t do it, Ginny! For some reason, I can’t break through these shackles.

We’ve never tried to travel to each other when bound, thought Ginny. Maybe there is a limitation to what we can do with this.

Harry could feel Ginny’s desperation build, but then he could tell that she had an idea. He heard her asking Madam Pomfrey how many doses of the pain potion were safe to take. When he realized what she was planning, he yelled through their Bond, No, Ginny! I can’t ask you to do that! Please, let me bear this.

You’re not asking, she retorted. I’m offering. I am not going to sit idly by when I can help you, Potter. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me anyway. Harry tasted the potions as Ginny drank them and he could feel their effects almost instantly.

Meanwhile, Yaxley had walked around behind Harry. Harry tried to turn his head to see what Yaxley was doing, but Yaxley positioned himself out of Harry’s line of sight. “Evanesco, ” Harry heard Yaxley say and suddenly he felt his robes and shirt vanish, leaving him naked from the waist up. “Are you ready, ‘Roberts’?” he asked. Harry again closed his eyes, preparing himself for the strike that was coming. He flinched when he heard the whip crack, but was surprised when didn’t feel anything. Yaxley laughed evilly at Harry’s reaction. “Just getting a few practice swings in,” explained Yaxley. Harry heard two more cracks and felt himself relaxing a little when the third crack was accompanied by intense pain in his back. He threw his head back and hissed. “Like that, do you?” mocked Yaxley. With the second lashing, Harry could feel his skin torn open by the bone fragments and felt blood start to drip down his back.

This cycle was repeated over and over as Yaxley proceeded to flog Harry. Another crack and more searing pain crossed his back. The pain was indescribable, but he couldn’t begin to imagine what it would have been without Ginny’s efforts. His legs were weakening and felt lightheaded as Yaxley continued, and Harry was sure that he would have passed out without her. Harry lost track of how many times he was struck, but eventually he felt the shackles around his wrists open and he collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily.

“That’s enough for today,” Yaxley said. “You did better than most, Roberts. After twenty or so lashings, most wizards are begging for mercy. I will leave you here to ponder your punishment tonight, but I’ll be back tomorrow. If you want to avoid a repeat of today, you can tell me then who you are and what your story is.”

Harry heard the door open and slam shut. He calmed his breathing and called to his wife. Ginny, how are you?

I’m alright, she responded weakly, but Harry could tell that she must be suffering. He tried to sense how she really was feeling, but because of the intensity of his own pain, he was unable to. Madam Pomfrey is taking care of me.

Harry took a few more deep breaths and sat up gingerly. One step at a time, he told himself. After making sure that he wasn’t to pass out, he slowly rose to a standing position. He just stood there for a few moments, gathering his strength. When he felt steady enough, he walked over to the door. Now, to get out of here. He put his palm against the lock of the door and concentrated. The metal in the latch dissolved as he Transfigured it into water. He waved his hands around the door jambs, feeling for any magic, and cancelled the locking and alarm charms that he detected. Those lessons with Bill while we were in Albania this fall certainly paid off.

He cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and then slowly cracked open the door, listening for any movement. Hearing nothing, he opened the door a little more, peering out into the corridor. He spotted an Auror sitting at a desk, but he seemed to be engrossed in some article in The Daily Prophet so he didn’t see the door inching open. When he had the door open enough, Harry cast a silent wandless Stunner at the guard, and he slumped over at his station. After making sure that the corridor was otherwise deserted, Harry crept to the door that was just beyond the guard, and repeated the steps he had performed on the door of his cell. That will help explain how I escaped, he thought. He then closed his eyes and concentrated on Ginny in her suite and Apparated to her.

Upon his arrival back at Hogwarts, he collapsed to the ground, drained from the expenditure of magical energy that it took to transport himself. “Mr Potter!” he heard Professor McGonagall yell. His eyes still closed, he felt his body levitated and then laid on a narrow bed that allowed his arms to fall on either side.

“Merlin! His back looks like ground meat!” he heard Madam Pomfrey exclaim. Abruptly, the pain in his back diminished to only a small discomfort.

“Thank you for whatever that was,” he gasped.

“A numbing charm,” explained the matron. “Now, I can work without causing you too much pain. Are you able to drink some potions?”

“I think so,” he responded.

“Good.” He propped himself on one arm carefully and reached out his hand. “Here are pain-relieving and a blood replenishing potions for you. Drink up.”

Harry gulped down both potions quickly, grimacing at the taste, and then laid down again so that Madam Pomfrey could continue to treat him. Sensing that Ginny was to his other side, he shifted so that he could turn his head in the other direction.

The sight before him caused him to gasp. Ginny was lying on a narrow camp bed similar to his, obviously unconscious, with bandages over her back. He noticed her school uniform blouse was on the ground next to her was covered with blood stains. “What happened to Ginny?” he asked fearfully.

“She is resting comfortably, Mr Potter,” reassured Madam Pomfrey. “Through your Bond, every lash that you received also appeared on her back.” Noticing the look of horror on his face, she added, “Don’t worry. I cast the numbing charm on her as soon as the wounds started appearing, so, in combination with the pain potions, she wasn’t in anywhere near the pain that you were. I treated her wounds just like I am treating yours and then gave her a Dreamless Sleeping Draught. You will both be fine in the morning.”

After a few more minutes, Harry felt bandages being applied. “There, that’s all taken care of,” said Madam Pomfrey. “Can you sit up? I need to check your ribs. Mrs Potter informed us that she thought you probably had some broken ribs from that kick you received.” Again Harry did as he was told, and after a few waves of her wand, the pain in Harry’s side also decreased. “Any other injuries that I am unaware of? And don’t try to be tough. You know that I will ask Mrs Potter in the morning if you hid something from me, and I imagine that you don’t want to face her wrath for refusing treatment.”

Harry smirked. “No, you’re right; I don’t want Ginny to be angry with me.” He surveyed his body, moving all of his limbs. “I think I’m okay. Just a little sore from the Cruciatus. I’m sure I will be fine in the morning.”

“Excellent. Then, it’s your turn to take a Sleeping Draught,” she said, handing him another vial. “Make sure you sleep on your stomach so the salves can do their work. I will be back in the morning to check on the two of you. Sleep well.”

After she left, Professor McGonagall patted him gently on the shoulder. “You gave us a scare today, Mr Potter, but I do give you credit for keeping your secret, withstanding that torture, and escaping. I am looking forward to hearing the whole story in the morning.” She arose to leave the room, but turned back to him as she opened the door. “Oh, and while I can’t give you any House points, I did give your wife fifty for her quick thinking and sacrifice. You might want to tell her when she wakes. Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Professor,” he replied, stifling a yawn. He began to lie down, but noticed the wide chasm between his camp bed and Ginny’s. This will not do, he thought. He Levitated his camp bed until it was next to hers and lay down, but he was still too far away. He stood up again, Levitating his camp bed back to its original location and then Transfigured Ginny’s into a full-size bed. He Summoned his pillow and then pulled back the covers, snuggling up to his wife, at least as much as he could with both of them lying on their stomachs. He kissed her on the cheek, took the Sleeping Draught, laid his head on his pillow and fell asleep almost instantly.

**********

Harry winced at the sunlight coming in the windows as he opened his eyes. I must have really slept late, he thought.

Yes, you did. It’s almost eleven.

Harry turned his head and saw that Ginny was sitting at a small table, working on an essay. He sat up cautiously, unsure how he would feel, but he didn’t notice any soreness as he moved. He did notice that he no longer had any bandages on his back. As he turned unsuccessfully to look, Ginny said, “Madam Pomfrey has already been by and given both of us a clean bill of health. We thought you could use some more sleep, though, so we let you have a lie in.”

Harry stood and walked over to Ginny, pulled her out of her chair, and gave her a bone-crushing hug that would have made Molly proud. Thank you so much for what you did for me yesterday. I don’t know how I would have survived without you taking some of that suffering from me.

I know you’d do the same for me. That’s what people who love each other do; they put their loved one’s needs and wants before their own.

Harry sighed. I know. And yes, I would do the same for you. That doesn’t make it any less special that you did it for me.

Okay. You’re welcome. I just hope neither of us has to do anything like this ever again.

Me, too, but I’m afraid with what we have to do, that hope may not come true. Harry gave her another squeeze before letting go. He then led her over to the sofa and pulled her down to snuggle with him. “Why aren’t you in class?”

Ginny smiled sweetly at him. “Professor McGonagall gave me permission to skive off lessons and stay in here today to watch over you.”

Harry was touched that the Headmistress would allow such a break from the usual rules. “How are you going to explain why you weren’t in lessons today?”

Ginny chuckled. “That’s already been taken care of. It seems that someone in Hufflepuff saw Professor McGonagall leave my suite last night, only to return with Madam Pomfrey. So, it’s all over school that I’m so sick that they couldn’t even take me to the hospital wing. Sometimes the Hogwarts gossip mill can be helpful.”

“I think that’s the first time I’ve been happy about the nattering that goes on here. So, since we have the day, why don’t you tell me what happened yesterday? I was only able to sense some vague feelings since I was so busy at the shop.”

Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm her nerves before recounting the events of the previous day. After summarizing the trial, she continued, “When Yaxley was done questioning me, I was brought back to the waiting room and then Cadwallader was called in. While the bailiff was out of the room, I told Professor McGonagall what was going on with you. Alistair wasn’t gone long before they came for her. She was gone longer, but not as long as I was. I’ve never seen her as mad as she was when she returned. She could see I was panicked about you, so she led us back to the Atrium quickly so we could use to the Floo to return here. We immediately came here to wait for your return. I think you pretty much know the rest,” she said with a shrug.

Harry hugged Ginny tightly again. “I truly am sorry that you had to go through all of that, and without me. I wish I could have been with you, or at least more available through our Bond. We were just so busy yesterday at the shop.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, at least,” responded Ginny.

Harry was confused for a moment. “Why not?” Then his mouth gaped open. “Certainly Fred and George didn’t fire me for closing the shop early, did they?”

Ginny smirked. “No, silly. Of course not. But Aaron Roberts can’t exactly go back to work there. You’re a fugitive from justice.” She extricated herself from his arms and went over to the table where she had been writing her essay. She reached underneath the parchment and pulled out a copy of The Daily Prophet, tossing it over to him.

Harry unfolded the newspaper to see his face, well actually Aaron Roberts’ face switching between red and blond hair, plastered on the front page. Underneath the picture, Harry read the following article.

Prisoner Escapes from Ministry

Roberts Impersonated Auror, Worked in Hogsmeade

Believed to Have Accomplice in Escape

A wizard who went by the name Aaron Roberts escaped from Ministry custody yesterday afternoon, prompting a nationwide manhunt. Roberts, a name which is believed to be an alias, was brought in for questioning for impersonating an Auror in the alleged attack on Hogwarts last September. His role in the incident came to light during testimony in the trial of the accused Death Eaters yesterday (see article, page 2). According to Tereus Yaxley, head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement, “Roberts was brought into custody, questioned, and had been locked in a cell. The last time he was seen was approximately four o’clock.”

At the shift change, Auror Savage, who was coming to relieve the day shift, discovered that the door to the holding area was open and the Auror guarding the area had been Stunned. She then noted that the door to the cell holding Roberts was also open. Both locks had shown evidence of Transfiguration as well as cancelled locking spells. “This suggests that he was assisted in his escape by an accomplice,” explained Mister Yaxley. “The prisoner’s wand had been confiscated and he was thoroughly searched before questioning, so it is implausible to believe Roberts could have escaped without help.”

There is no record at the Ministry or at St Mungo’s of an Aaron Roberts being born in Britain, and he did not attend Hogwarts, at least under that name. Aurors who questioned him detected the possibility of an American accent, but investigations at the Wizarding schools in the States did not find any record of him either.

Roberts was employed at the Hogsmeade branch of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. “He was a good worker. We never had any problems with him,” said Fred Weasley, co-owner. Roberts had been hired in September and lived in a flat above the shop. When asked about more information about his past, Weasley said that Roberts had always been reserved and kept to himself. “Of course, we had no idea he was using an alias.”

The prisoner was discovered to be adept at glamour charms, as he was in disguise when he was apprehended. The picture above this article shows his appearance before and after the charms were removed, but he reportedly had long, shoulder-length blond hair when arrested. “We believe Roberts and his accomplice are both dangerous wizards. Anyone who encounters them should contact the Ministry immediately and should not attempt to confront them.

As he finished the article, Harry said, “I’m actually surprised; the story is actually fairly accurate. Not like the usual rubbish they print.”

Ginny nodded and said, “So, now you understand why you can’t work at the shop anymore.”

Harry looked at his wife and said, “But what will we do? Without that income, I don’t know how I’ll support you.” He tried to keep his face serious, but after a few seconds he broke out in a lopsided grin.

Ginny came over and sat on his lap. “I guess I’ll just have to support us both. Ron said that the Bats really do need a new Chaser. The ones they have are getting old and their reflexes aren’t what they used to be.”

Harry nuzzled Ginny’s neck. “Hopefully, we can finish this with ol’ Tom in time for both of us to play next season.” After placing a few more kisses on her neck, Harry pulled back and said, “Seriously, where am I going to live? I obviously can’t stay in my flat anymore. Even if I disguise myself, I’m sure they’ll be watching the shop closely.”

“I don’t know. Maybe we can ask Professor McGonagall if she can relax the rules and let you stay here full-time. Congratulations on your successful self-transfiguration, by the way. I’m proud of you.” She began to reciprocate Harry’s efforts by kissing him on the neck, which made him moan.

As things began to get a little more passionate, Ginny pulled back and said, “We better stop. I have lots of work to do to make up for missing two days of lessons. Professor McGonagall brought me the assignments just when she came to check on you.” She gently slapped at Harry’s half-hearted attempts to keep her on his lap, stood, and returned to her study table.

Harry picked up The Daily Prophet and turned to page 2, finding the article about the trial that had been referred to on the front page.

Charges Dropped Against Accused Attackers

No Evidence of Offensive Spells

All charges were dropped against the wizards and witches accused of attacking Hogwarts last September 2nd. Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Heinrik Crabbe, Xander Goyle, Minax Jugson, Evan Rosier, Thorfinn Rowle, and Nicholai Selwyn were all released after the Wizengamot ruled that there was no evidence that they actually had attacked the school.

“The testimony proved what we have said all along,” said Mr Selwyn. “We were just visiting to speak to the Headmistress to discuss some suggested changes to the curriculum. When we arrived in the Entrance Hall, we were attacked without provocation. Since we weren’t expecting to be assaulted, none of us even had our wands out, so we were defeated before we had any idea of what was occurring.”

As was revealed in testimony yesterday by the Hogwarts Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, the school had been evacuated and the faculty readied for battle, all based on information from ‘Aaron Roberts,’ a wizard who was impersonating an Auror (see page 1). Some students who had accidentally been left behind, led by the bogus Auror, armed themselves with a secret weapon that he provided, and attacked the accused as soon as they entered the school.

Each of the accused had their wands tested, and none showed any curses or hexes, only shield spells. Testimony by the two Hogwarts students involved in the skirmish both stated that they did not remember any spells being fired before they fired the secret weapon that disabled the adults. When asked if he was upset at the students that fired at them, Mr Rowle said, “No, I don’t hold the students liable for their actions. They were just acting on faulty information from someone they thought they could trust. I do, however, hope that the Ministry will punish this man who impersonated an Auror to the full extent of the law. Because of this man, we were unjustly accused and imprisoned for four months. The other defendants and I have discussed the possibility of requesting remuneration if this man is ever brought to justice.”

The trial of those involved in the attack on Hogsmeade the same day is scheduled for next week, but sources inform The Prophet that these charges may also be dropped because of similar circumstances. The defendants also state that they were attacked without cause, this time by recent graduates of Hogwarts who apparently were acting on information from the same phony Auror. While there was some damage done in the village, the defendants have all claimed that they were just visiting the shops when they saw Lucius Malfoy cast several curses that caused explosions and fires before he left via Apparition. Mr Malfoy, once a close confidant of former Minister Fudge, has been sought for questioning, but has not been seen since the attack.

“Gin, did you see this article about your trial?”

Ginny sighed. “Yes. It’s a little frustrating that all those Death Eaters are going to be released, but, for some reason, today is one of those days when nothing is going to bring me down. Do you know what I mean?”

Harry nodded and said, “I feel the same way. Maybe it’s because we both escaped yesterday with so little damage.”

Ginny agreed. “I wasn’t all that surprised when I saw The Prophet, though. It was obvious from the way I was questioned that the Ministry wasn’t that interested in prosecuting them. It’s just another sign of the corruption of the Ministry, and another reason why we need to defeat Tom as soon as possible.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Hopefully, Bill can help us on the next step this Saturday,” he said. “Until then, I need to figure out what I am going to do with all my time. Any suggestions? Maybe we could do something else to cause Tom some problems?” he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Ginny sighed again. “I would love to, Harry, but I really need to get this work done.” Her face lit up suddenly, “I know! You could go visit Bill. We’re all worried about him now that he’s gone back to Shell Cottage and he has to go back to work. I’m sure he could use the help with Cat. You are her godfather, after all. If you stayed there during the day, you could take care of her. You could also help him out with meals; he’s rubbish in the kitchen, and you’re a good cook. I know Mum is willing to help him out, but I’m sure he doesn’t want to keep depending on her. Then, in the evenings, you could provide him some company for him until I’m ready for you to come here. I know he was a little apprehensive about being by himself after Cat went to sleep.” Ginny was obviously excited about her idea by the look on her face, even if Harry hadn’t been able to sense her feelings through their Bond.

“So, let me get this straight. Basically you want me to be a stay-at-home mom for your brother?” He smirked as he said it.

Ginny giggled. “I guess so.” She tilted her head and looked up into space. “I can just see it now, you, holding Cat on your hip, wearing Mum’s apron with honking daffodils all over it, flour on your face, and Bill Apparates into the sitting room and yells, ‘Honey, I’m home.’”

This prompted another round of giggles, so Harry jumped up. “Laugh at me, will you?” he teased. Before she could protect herself, he pounced on her, tickling her without mercy.

“Okay, okay, I give,” she said breathlessly after a few moments, unable to fend off his attack.

Once they both had regained their breath, Harry said, “As I think about your idea, it just might work. As long as he doesn’t expect any other benefits that Fleur would provide.”

“Eww! I don’t even want to think about that. Why don’t we visit Professor McGonagall and use her Floo to see what he thinks?”

Harry looked at his watch. “Other than the fact that it’s not quite noon and he’s likely at work? Why don’t you send Hedwig with a post to him?”

Ginny pulled out some parchment, wrote a quick note, and then left for the Owlery, leaving Harry to finish reading the propaganda in The Daily Prophet.

Back to index


Chapter 52: As Whitest Snow

Author's Notes: As always, thanks to Arnel for her beta work on this chapter. Even though she was writing her own work for the Time Turner Challenge (which I recommend you check out, by the way), she still found time to review my chapter.


As Whitest Snow

At seven the next morning, Dobby transported Harry to the sitting room of Shell Cottage. Harry looked around a moment and saw that, while it wasn’t unclean, it was much more cluttered than the last time he had visited. Toys littered the room, and a robe lay over the back of the sofa. After thanking Dobby, he checked the kitchen, and saw several dirty dishes in the sink. I guess Bill has had other things on his mind than tidying up. Harry then walked down the hall to the master bedroom and gently knocked on the door. The force of his knock caused the latch to release and the door opened slowly, revealing an empty room with no Bill.

A door to a guest bedroom to Harry’s left opened and Bill came out, obviously rushing. “Oh, hello, Harry. Glad you’re here.”

At Harry’s questioning eyebrow, Bill turned red and said quietly, “I haven’t been able to sleep in our bedroom, so I’ve been staying in the guest room.”

Harry’s heart broke a little, seeing the pain on Bill’s face. He patted Bill on the shoulder in understanding. Changing the subject, “So, when does Cat usually wake up?”

“She tends to be a late sleeper. Generally we hear her stirring around nine. She’s been a little grumpy the last few mornings when I had to wake her up to take her to the Burrow.”

Bill gave Harry some more directions while grabbing a scone from the kitchen and pulling on his robe. “I want to really thank you again for doing this, Harry. Mum loves taking care of Cat, but I could tell that she was exhausted after just three days with her. I also don’t think she’s as good at resisting Cat’s Veela charms as you are,” he said with a wink. “Cat has her wrapped around her finger.”

“Grandmothers are supposed to spoil their grandchildren,” replied Harry with a crooked grin. “I’ll try to resist her, but she can certainly be persuasive when she wants to be.”

“I know. I’m going to need a lot of advice from Fleur’s parents on how to deal with her as she gets older. Anyway, do you have any other questions?”

“No, I think you covered everything.”

Bill looked a little nervous as he asked, “Are you sure you want to do this? I could call off for work today.”

Harry chuckled. “Bill, we’ll be fine. If I have any questions or problems, Molly is just a Floo call away.”

“Alright. I’m just guessing that ‘Nanny’ wasn’t one of your career goals.”

“No, it wasn’t, but I’ve always loved kids. I did a lot of babysitting, or I guess baby minding you call it here, in middle school to make some extra money. And it gives me somewhere to be and something to do while ‘Auror Roberts’ is hiding from the Ministry. Cat and I will have a great time. Now, get to work and don’t worry about us. I can handle it.”

Bill sighed. “Okay. See you this evening, Harry. Kiss my Catnip for me.” With a pop, Bill was gone.

Harry looked at his watch, realizing he had a little time before Cat awoke and looked around the small cottage. I guess I’ll start in the kitchen.

**********

January 8th, 1999

Dear Aaron,

I hope you had a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Sorry I haven’t written but it’s been a little crazy here the last few weeks. The first event was just before Christmas …

Harry then proceeded to inform Aaron of everything that had occurred recently, including his first time watching Cat, Fleur’s murder, the battle at the Burrow, being asked to be godparents, the trial, and his arrest and subsequent escape.

So, now ‘Aaron Roberts’ is now a wanted fugitive by the British Ministry of Magic. This means I can no longer work at Ginny’s brother’s shop and I had to move out of the apartment I lived in.

But I do have a new job and you’ll never guess what it is! I am now a nanny to my niece and goddaughter Cat. Bill needed someone to watch her during the day and I needed something to do, so it all worked out for both of us. The original plan was for Cat to stay with Ginny’s mum, but, Bill says that Cat wore her out too much; Mrs Weasley confided to me that she’s just too old to be chasing an infant around for ten hours every day.

So, every day, Dobby, the house-elf I told you about in another letter, transports me to Bill’s cottage around seven. I generally tidy up or read until Cat wakes up. Then I get her dressed and fed and we spend most of the morning playing with her toys. No Sesame Street or Barney here to entertain her with. After lunch she takes a nap and I tidy up the mess we made and then start working on dinner. When she wakes up we play some more until Bill comes home. Then, we eat together, and, while Bill spends some time with his daughter, I read and study some more. My education my first summer here was focused on the practical and was light on magical theory, so I am focusing on that, as well as seeing how I can combine this knowledge with Muggle science. Thanks for sending me your physics text from last semester; it’s come in handy.

After Cat goes to sleep, Bill works with me, teaching me lessons relating to curse-breaking, so I can learn how to detect traps and how to defuse them. It really is fascinating. Then, generally between ten and eleven, Ginny lets me know it’s time to come back to Hogwarts so I can spend the night with her.

I know you’re probably laughing at me right now, picturing me being so domesticated. It’s a different routine from what I was used to, but, so far, it’s enjoyable. Cat really is a good baby and we have fun together. I’ve learned that she actually isn’t a picky eater she; she just doesn’t like peas. So, as long as I don’t try to serve her any I’ve been able to avoid any more battles like I had the first time I watched her. I’m really glad that over the Holidays, I asked Mrs Weasley if I could help out around the house. Everyone was so depressed after Fleur’s death, including my mother-in-law, I figured that if I could take a few tasks off of her plate, she could concentrate on caring for her family. She taught me several cleaning spells, including how to set the dishes to wash themselves. That would have been nice when we were younger, wouldn’t it? She also taught me how to do the laundry magically as well as cook on a wizard’s stove. All those lessons are really paying off now.

I hope your spring semester is starting well. Some of the courses you are taking sound fascinating, especially the one where you are comparing films and the books they are based on.

I’ll write again soon. Looking forward to hearing from you again.

Brook

**********

Harry and Ginny met with Professor McGonagall early Saturday morning. They were intrigued by the configuration of the Room of Requirement that she had requested. They were in a small room, complete with the usual chair and bench. On the back wall of the room, there was a steel door and a large window that looked into another room that was totally empty.

"Good morning,” said the Headmistress. “I would like to start today with seeing how your Holiday project progressed. Harry, Ginny told me what you were able to do when you were arrested. Could you demonstrate for me?”

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. After a moment he looked up at Professor McGonagall and was relieved when he saw a smile on her face. "Excellent, Harry! You look just like you did with your glamour charm. Now, can you change your hair colour like you did on Tuesday?" Harry concentrated again and a few seconds later, the Headmistress congratulated him on the rapid change.

"Unfortunately, because of what happened at the Ministry, you aren't going to be able to use that disguise again,” said the Professor. “Have you worked on any others?"

"There is another face that I thought might come in handy," he replied. He bowed his head and concentrated. When he looked up, he gave a smile and asked, "What do you think?"

Professor McGonagall had a hint of a smirk on her face. "Ginny, how would you assess Harry's attempt?"

Ginny stared at Harry, her brow furrowed. "There's something that's just not right. Your achieved the right shade of blond colour, almost white. And most of the face is good, but I think his chin is a little more pointed." She tilted her head and studied Harry's face closely. "But the biggest problem is your smile. Try to sneer." Harry attempted to do just that, but Ginny chuckled. "No, that's not it. Malfoy has a certain haughty look that I don't think you can mimic. I think you might be able to fool an acquaintance, but I don't think you could fool a Death Eater who knows him well."

Harry shrugged and said, "I thought it was worth a try."

"That demonstrates a problem with trying to disguise yourself as a real person,” said Professor McGonagall. "There are often some subtleties that are difficult to imitate. That is the true gift of a Metamorphmagus. They can imitate a real person much more easily. I would recommend focusing on a more generic look." She turned to Ginny and said, "How about you, Mrs Potter."

A few seconds later Ginny changed her appearance so that she had long blonde hair, tanned skin, and brilliant blue eyes. "Excellent, Ginny. However, I would suggest toning down the eye colour." She conjured a mirror and showed Ginny her effort. "Right now those eyes are very memorable and a more blue-grey tone might make you more forgettable, which I think is your goal." Ginny concentrated while looking at the mirror and was able to dull her eye colour. "Much better," said McGonagall. "Have you worked on another disguise?"

Ginny smirked. "Yes. Could you both close your eyes? I want it to be a surprise." Harry and McGonagall did as asked and after a few moments Ginny said, "Okay, I’m ready."

Harry gasped and Professor McGonagall laughed out loud. Ginny had morphed to a black pixie cut, emerald green eyes, and a crooked grin. She even had a lightning bolt scar over her right eyebrow. "Now you know what you would have looked like as a girl,” she teased her husband.

"That is very weird, seeing my face on a girl's body," said Harry.

“While that is amusing,” said Professor McGonagall, “it really isn’t very useful, unless you want the world to think that Harry has a long lost sister. Good work, both of you. I would suggest you continue to add a few more disguises to repertoire.

“Next, I want to switch topics and combine Transfiguration with some weather charms. I know you are both familiar with Ventus, the wind jinx. It really isn’t that helpful in a duel, however, since it isn't that powerful, even if modified by Duo or Tria. However, there is another spell that can be used to create a windstorm, the Tempest Charm. The incantation is Vertex Prospero. Once you cast it, you can shape and guide the wind with your wand and your other hand. This also requires much magical power so that you don’t lose control of it, but I am sure you two can handle it.”

She stood up and walked to the window. “You have probably wondered about the configuration I requested this morning. The next room will be where you will each practice the spell separately, while your spouse and I will watch from here. We will use your Bond to communicate, so I can give you pointers. Ginny, would you like to go first?” When she nodded, the Professor suggested that she remove her robes and just wear her Muggle clothes when practicing. “Robes can get caught in the wind very easily,” she explained.

They practiced for about ninety minutes, becoming fairly proficient at the new spell. After gaining confidence in it, Professor McGonagall filled a conjured barrel with water. “This was a favourite offensive weapon of Professor Dumbledore’s; he used the spell often and it was one of the ones he used in his defeat of Grindelwald.” She thought for a moment, and the Room provided a manikin, similar to what they used in their Serpensortia training. “Now, I want you to guide your windstorm to the barrel and use it to pick up the water and then engulf the dummy. You can use this to trap someone until they pass out from lack of oxygen.” They mastered this quickly, since once they learned to control the wind, using it in this manner wasn’t that much more different.

While the couple rested and drank some water to recover from the effort they had been expending, Professor McGonagall introduced the final modification of the Tempest Charm. “For the rest of the morning, I want to combine this spell with Transfiguration. You will remember, when I taught you to conjure solid objects to block the Unforgivables, instead of just teaching you the incantation, I had you use your magic to sense the molecules that were present in the air, and then had you Transfigure those molecules into something more solid. It was harder than just learning the spells, but, at the time, I mentioned that this would be useful in the future. That time is now.

“Next, I want you to use your magic again to detect the water molecules in the air, and then Transfigure them into grains of sand. Once you’ve done that, you can then repeat the Tempest Charm. This will result in a sandstorm. Harry, you go first this time.”

After Ginny and Professor McGonagall had left the room, he focused all of his magic on the water that was in the air, changing the drops into small grains of sand. Before they had a chance to fall to the ground, he yelled, “Vertex Prospero! ” The resultant windstorm twirled rapidly, pulling the sand into its spinning. He maintained his concentration, moulding the miniature cyclone and directing it to engulf the manikin. After a few moments, he dropped his wand and the wind died down.

Merlin! he heard in his mind. Wondering what surprised Ginny, he looked up and saw that the manikin was almost destroyed by the force of the conjured sandstorm. Only the metal base and frame were left standing.

He was surprised when Ginny tapped him on the shoulder, not realizing that she had slipped in the room with Professor McGonagall. “Another formidable weapon,” said the Headmistress, “but not one to be used indiscriminately. Obviously, great damage would be done if this was utilized against a person. But, as we all know, using fatal force may be necessary in this war,” she said quietly, with palpable regret in her voice.

She took a breath and said in a much cheerier tone, “Ginny, your turn.”

***********

Harry was just finishing lunch with Dobby when Ginny returned with Hermione and Bill in tow. “Ready to try Aufero Malum again?” asked Hermione.

Harry stood and said, “Dobby, thanks again, for both the meal and the company.”

Dobby blushed. “Oh, Harry Potter is too kind to say such nice things to Dobby. Dobby will just clean up and get out of the way of you great wizards.” With a snap, all of the food and Dobby disappeared, leaving the foursome alone.

“What should we do first?” Ginny asked Bill.

“Hermione, can I see both the original and your translation of the description of this spell?” asked Bill. “I would like to familiarize myself with it before I observe what you are doing.”

Hermione placed her beaded bag on the table and began pulling out scrolls and more scrolls until she found the correct one. “Here’s my translation.” She opened the bag even wider and peered in, looking for the book.

“Oh, Hermione, sometimes you forget you’re a witch,” said Ginny, rolling her eyes. “Accio The Bright Arts.” The ancient book came flying out of the bag and Ginny grabbed it out of the air easily. She handed it to her friend with a smirk, causing Hermione to blush in embarrassment.

Hermione found the corresponding passages in the book and the scroll and pointed them out to Bill. While he was studying the text, she pulled out the enchanted music box and placed it across the room, as she had done several times in the past.

“Alright,” said Bill. “I think I understand the spell. Harry and Ginny, let’s see it.”

Harry and Ginny held hands, concentrated, and then simultaneously moved their wands in a circle and said, “Aufero Malum,” as they slashed downward. This change in wand motion had been found by Hermione a few weeks before break. The light did seem a little brighter than when they just touched their wand tips, but unfortunately it didn’t result in any change in the curse on the music box. A white light emerged from each of their wands, merging a few feet in front of them, and travelled across the room, striking the music box. After they released the spell, Hermione waved her wand over the cursed object and shook her head. “No, it still isn’t working. The curse is still there.”

“Try this motion with your wand instead,” suggested Bill. He demonstrated an elongated oval, narrower vertically than horizontally, followed by the downward slash.

“But the book specifically says a circular motion,” disputed Hermione.

The corner of Bill’s lip raised a little. “Trust me, Hermione. Just try it and see what happens.”

Harry and Ginny did as Bill proposed. This time the beam that erupted from their wands was both much thicker and brighter, causing the four to squint to protect their eyes.

Hermione’s mouth gaped open. “How did you know that would work?”

“Trick of the trade,” explained Bill. “Many curse-breaking spells can be strengthened by using motions that are perpendicular to each other. You won’t find that tip in any book, but it works more often than not.”

Hopeful that Bill’s idea had worked, Hermione performed the diagnostic spell again. Her shoulders sagged as she saw the results, however. “While it was obviously stronger, the spell still isn’t having any effect on the curse. I just don’t understand. I know you are doing everything correctly,” obvious frustration in her voice.

“How about if I take the book and scrolls and review them?” offered Bill. “Sometimes having fresh eyes on a problem can solve it. It may take a while to go through everything you’ve done, Hermione, but maybe I can find something that will help.”

**********

For the next few weeks, instead of Bill’s usual lessons with Harry after Cat was put to bed, Bill studied The Bright Arts and Hermione’s translations. Harry, taking advantage of what he learned vicariously from studying Ancient Runes with Ginny, tried to assist him as much as he could, although most of the time ‘assist’ meant finding books in Bill’s library. On occasion, Bill would need a more rare resource, so Harry would ask Ginny to find a book in the Hogwarts library, and, through their Bond, Harry would pass the information on to Bill.

One such night, Harry had just passed some information to Bill in this manner and he was looking over Bill’s shoulder as Bill was reviewing the verses describing Aufero Malum. “Let’s go over this one more time,” said Bill, who then read the passage aloud.

“To cast the Aufero Malum spell The bond fulfilled within two must dwell. Strict observance of the ancient rites As it is written, the cores unite, While their two bodies cleave as one A cord entwined their minds become. Essence will coalesce, Their power limitless. Their hearts must be light As the noontime sun is bright. And like finest gold will be the souls The two spirits precious as whitest snow.”

Bill was looking back and forth between the original and Hermione’s scroll and when he suddenly gasped. “I think I found something.” He waved his wand over the book and said, “Collevo.” He turned to Harry, explaining, “There was a very small wrinkle in the page, which I just smoothed out.” He pointed at a specific rune. “It looks like the wrinkle hid a small dot next to this rune. Do you see it, Harry?”

Harry peered closely at the indicated rune, even casting Lumos to shed more light on the old book. “Yes, I think there is one there. Is that important?”

“Very. It modifies the translation significantly.” He pointed to Hermione’s scroll. “In the next to last line, this dot changes the meaning of the rune from ‘will’ to ‘must.’”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Okay. I understand the difference between the words ‘will’ and ‘must,’ but what is the significance of the change?”

“I don’t know,” muttered Bill as he continued to pore over the book.

Wait! Harry, stare at the last two lines again, Ginny ordered through their Bond.

Alright, but why?

Just do it and let me think!

Harry knew better than to question her any further and tried to empty his mind so as to not distract her. Yes! That’s it!

What? asked Harry.

Do you see the rune in the last line that looks like an ‘H’ except that it has two diagonal cross bars?

Yeah.

Hermione translated that rune as ‘precious,’ but we learned in Ancient Runes last week that it has two meanings, depending on the context. When it is used with jewels, it means ‘precious,’ like Hermione thought. But when it is used with gold, it means ‘pure.’ In conjunction with what Bill found, it totally changes the meaning!

Harry told Bill Ginny’s conclusion, which intrigued him. “Ginny, I think you’re on to something,” said Bill. “But, while the meaning is different, what does it mean?”

“She doesn’t know,” Harry told Bill. “Perhaps we should contact Hermione to see if she has any ideas.”

“Good idea, Harry.” Bill arose and knelt in front of the Floo. After about a minute of calling for her, he stood back up. “She’s not answering. She must not be at her flat.”

Harry looked at his watch and saw that it was almost midnight. “Where is she? It’s not like her to be out late.” He then heard a giggle in his mind. What? he asked Ginny.

Have Bill Floo call Ron and see if he knows where she is.

“Bill, try Ron’s place.” Ron had moved into Harry’s old flat above the twins’ shop in Hogsmeade when Harry’s disguise as Aaron Roberts had been discovered.

Bill knelt in front of the fireplace again and called out, “Castor’s Place.” A few seconds later, he said, “Ron! Can I come through? I have a question for you.”

Harry heard Ron’s panicked voice, “No, you can’t come through! What do you want?”

“Do you know where Hermione is? She’s not at her flat. We think we have a breakthrough with the Aufero Malum translation.”

“Um, yeah. I think I know where she is. I’ll let her know you want her to come over. She should be there in just a minute.”

Bill came back over to the table where they were working and looked over the translations again. A few minutes later, Hermione arrived via the Floo, her hair a little more bushy than usual and her face a little flushed as if she had been exercising. “Ron said that you found something. What did you discover?” she said as she sat down next to Bill.

Bill explained how he and Ginny had modified the translation and showed her the two alternate versions. As she was studying the two renderings, Harry slipped behind her and whispered in her ear, “You missed one of the buttons on your blouse.” Harry stood back up and said aloud, “It’s a good thing Ron knew how to contact you so late, Hermione. Where were you?”

Hermione glared at Harry, who was grinning at her. “That’s none of your business!” she hissed back at him before turning back to the translations.

Bill wrote the new translation of the last two lines beneath Hermione’s original version, with the changes underlined.

And like finest gold will be the souls And like finest gold must be the souls

The two spirits precious as whitest snow The two spirits pure as whitest snow

After a few minutes of listening to Hermione mutter under her breath as she studied the amended translation, the suspense was getting to Ginny. Ask her! Ginny insisted.

Harry sighed. “Well, Hermione, any ideas? Ginny is becoming a little antsy,” he said with a smirk.

Prat!

“I’m not sure. I agree with the new version. I had forgotten about how that rune changes with the context. Good catch, Ginny.” She paused a moment, thinking some more. “But I’m not sure what it means. To understand it, I think we need to consider when these lines were written, which was back in the Middle Ages. At that time, there were generally two interpretations of a ‘pure soul.’ The first, is sinless, which, is impossible. As it says in the Bible, ‘For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.’ So, that doesn’t make sense. The other way to consider the phrase would be that virgins are thought to be pure. However, that obviously doesn’t fit either, since the Soul Bonded couple can’t be virgins for their Bond to be completed.” She leaned back in her chair, yawned, and stretched. “I just don’t understand what this means. Perhaps if I sleep on it, I’ll be able to think of something in the morning. Are we still meeting at ten in the Room of Requirement?” she asked Harry.

“Yeah. Professor McGonagall wanted to meet with us after lunch tomorrow.”

Hermione stood up and started gathering the scrolls. Harry put his hand on her arm and said, “Hermione, we can take care of this. You should get back to whatever we interrupted.” He smirked and raised his eyebrow at her.

Hermione blushed a little before regaining control. “Thanks, Harry. I think I will.”

As she left via the Floo, Bill looked over at Harry. “Wait, did she just say ‘Castor’s Place’?”

Harry smiled and nodded.

*********

Ginny and Harry arrived in the Room of Requirement a little after nine and started back to work on the mystery of the consequences of the altered translation. “I wish there was a way to cross-reference other appearances of that rune in the book,” said Harry. “Then, perhaps we could see if there are any other interpretations of ‘pure souls.’”

“Oh, you can. Hermione placed just a charm on the book and her translation. Just tap your wand on a rune in the book and it will light up blue. Then, if you look at the translation, the word that the rune refers to will be lit yellow. Then, if you tap the lit up rune, all instances of that rune in the translation will light up yellow.”

“That woman is amazing,” said Harry. Harry did as Ginny instructed, tapping twice on the rune from the night before, which highlighted every instance of it. As they each scanned through scrolls, they didn’t find much help.

“All of these uses of ‘pure’ are describing the quality of ingredients in love potions. Arrgh! This isn’t getting us anywhere,” said Ginny.

“Wait, this entry may help,” said Harry, as he read from his scroll. “‘If either of the bound couple has had intimate contact with an evil soul, their soul will no longer be pure, and many of the spells in future chapters will not be effective.’ Oh, no. That’s why it isn’t working.”

“What do you mean?” she said as she leaned over and read the passage over his shoulder.

“Don’t you see? Both of us have had ‘intimate contact’ with Voldemort’s soul. I have this weird connection that enables me to see his thoughts and you were possessed by him in your first year. He can enter both of our minds much more easily than others.”

“And we both are Parselmouths; I’ll bet that we received that from him!” added Ginny.

“As I reflect on it, I think our emotions are also affected by his. We always seem more irritable after he suffers a defeat and are almost giddy when he has a victory.”

“Harry, I think you’re right! It all makes sense!”

Harry was confused at Ginny’s obvious enthusiasm. “Why are you so excited by this news? It means that the spell won’t work.”

“No, it doesn’t. Look at the next sentence. ‘To resolve this issue, the soul or souls in question must be purified by Aufero Malum.’ That’s the answer. All we need to do is cast the spell on each other.”

“When should we do this?” asked Harry, sharing Ginny’s excitement.

“Now is as good a time as any. Then, when Hermione arrives, we can try the spell on the music box. If it works, we can remove Tom’s soul from the staff.”

Harry, a wide smile on his face, said, “Let’s do it. Won’t Hermione be surprised when she gets here?”

The couple interlaced their fingers, staring into each other’s eyes, and nodded. Their wands moved synchronously, tracing an oval and then slashing downward. “Aufero Malum! ” they cried in unison, pointing their wands at each other.

**********

Hermione was walking in the seventh floor corridor as she approached the door to the Room of Requirement, deep in thought considering the meaning of “pure souls,” when she heard blood-curdling screaming coming from the Room. Her heart racing, she ripped open the door, and ran into the Room, her wand already out. What she saw stopped her in her tracks as she gasped.

Lying on the floor were Harry and Ginny, unmoving, their hands still gripped together and their eyes staring off into space.

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Chapter 53: Restoration

Author's Notes: I'm sorry this chapter is late, especially with a cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter, but I really struggled with this one. I knew what I wanted as the final tone, but not sure how to get there. I want to thank my beta Arnel for her encouragement that I was on the right track.


Restoration

When Harry opened his eyes, he noticed that everything looked fuzzy. He shook his head to clear it, but that didn’t help his vision and it made his head hurt more. He reached up to his forehead and rubbed his scar. He heard a moan beside him, and turned toward it, seeing Ginny was rubbing her head as well. He squeezed her hand, which he was still holding.

Are you alright? he asked as he sat up.

Other than this headache, I think I’m fine. How about you? Ginny pulled on Harry’s hand, bringing herself up next to him.

The same. He looked around and thought, Wonder where we are.

I have no idea. Ginny looked around as well. All I see around us is white. It’s like we’re caught in a fog.

Harry stood up and then offered his hand to Ginny to help her up. I wish this fog would clear so we could see something, thought Harry.

Over the next few seconds the fog seemed to react to his request. As they scanned their surroundings, they found that they were in a corridor with white walls, floor, and ceiling and no doors. How did that happen? asked Ginny.

I don’t know. Perhaps we’re still in the Room of Requirement and it is responding to our wishes. They looked each way, but there was no end in sight in either direction. Which way should we go? asked Harry.

Maybe we should ask the Room. Ginny said aloud, “Show us the way out of here.” Unfortunately, nothing happened. Ginny shrugged. “At least it was worth a try.”

Ginny suddenly turned her head to the right. Do you hear that? asked Ginny, pointing in the direction of the sound.

Harry strained his hearing and responded, Yeah. It sounds like a small animal whimpering.

Let’s go toward the noise; maybe we’ll find something, suggested Ginny.

They pulled out their wands, not knowing what they were going to encounter, and walked down the seemingly endless white corridor. As they walked, noises tended to become slightly louder, but still sounded muffled, as if they were still a distance away. However, at times the sounds decreased so that the couple had to strain to hear them.

After several minutes, Harry pointed. Look! The hallway ends up ahead. And there’s a door!

Ginny started walking toward the door, leading Harry who followed behind. When they came to it, Ginny reached to grab the doorknob, but Harry stopped her. Are you sure we should? We don’t know what’s on the other side.

What choice do we have? We need to figure out where we are.

Okay. But let’s be ready in case there is something dangerous on the other side. Harry readied his wand and nodded for Ginny to do the same. With a breath, she turned the knob slowly, pushed the door so it was barely ajar, and peered into the next room. What she saw caused her to gasp.

What is it? asked Harry.

It looks like the garage at your house in Ohio!

What?!! he asked as he looked over the top of her head through the cracked door. You’re right!

Together they pushed the door open more and walked into the garage cautiously. On the walls were hung all of his dad’s tools, each in their proper place, just like they had been left almost two years earlier. On one wall, three bikes were leaned against each other next to the lawn mower and leaf blower. Closer to the door, two rakes and a snow shovel were attached to the wall, ready for use. It was as if they had been transported over three thousand miles and were back home.

There was one thing that was out of place, however. In the middle of the garage was a car, a butter yellow two-door with a black convertible top. Harry knew it looked familiar, but couldn’t remember why. Its trunk lid was up, a work light hanging from it. When the couple recovered from their shock, they noticed voices coming from the other side of the car.

They crept around the back of the car, wands at the ready. As they approached it, Harry was surprised to see that, instead of an empty trunk, it was filled with an engine. As they rounded the rear fender, they saw a man, whose back was to them, kneeling next to another man who was working underneath the car. On the ground between them were arrayed a number of different tools.

“Hand me the sparkplug socket wrench,” said the man under the car. Harry suppressed a gasp as he recognized the voice of the mechanic under the car.

The other man picked up a crescent wrench, reaching it under the car, and asked, “Is that this spanner?”

“No, it looks a cylinder on a pivot attached to a handle.”

The first man looked at the tools, obviously not sure what he was looking for.

Harry, his heart filling with hope, slowly knelt down and picked up the asked-for tool and said, “This is what he wants,” he said quietly.

The first man turned his head and gasped. Harry looked into a face that was almost a mirror image of his, including the same messy black hair and glasses, and tried to control his emotions as he saw his birth father for the first time that he could remember.

Before either one of them could react, the man underneath the car wheeled himself out and sat up suddenly. “Brook!”

Harry turned his head, his mouth gaping at the man who had raised him. “It’s really you,” he muttered.

Before he could react, a door opened and in walked two women, one carrying a tray. “Boys, here’s the snack I …” Her sentence stopped as she noticed Brook kneeling next to the car and the tray dropped. “Brook,” she said breathlessly.

Fortunately, the other woman, a redhead with green eyes, was quick with her wand, saying, “ Arresto Momentum,” catching the tray before it crashed to the ground and levitated it, setting it on the work bench.

Harry found himself engulfed in a three-way hug between the parents who had raised him. Tears flowed freely down all three of their cheeks. “I thought I would never see you again,” he uttered under his breath.

After a few moments, he noticed the other couple was standing together, their arms around each other, and their smiling faces wet from tears as well.

Harry pulled back from his parents and approached them. “You’re James and Lily, right? My other parents?”

The Potters nodded and Lily opened her arms, welcoming him into a hug. He willingly went to her, revelling in the love he received from her. It was James’ turn next, and Harry received a hug and several slaps on the back from his father.

When he was done hugging James, his eyes found Ginny who was also smiling at him, obviously joyful to witness the reunions. He beckoned to her and she slipped under his arm. As he squeezed her to his side, he said, “Moms, Dads, I want you to meet my wife, Ginny.”

Ginny was pulled into hugs as she met her in-laws. While Ginny was hugging the Potters, Angela smiled at Brook and whispered in his ear, “I told you that you would marry your little red-haired girl,” causing Brook to blush. After a few moments, Lily said, “Let’s go into the kitchen where we can sit and talk. We have a lot to discuss.”

The three couples left the garage and Angela busied herself in the kitchen while the rest of them sat down around the kitchen table that Brook had eaten many meals at growing up. “Where exactly are we?” asked Brook. “It looks just like our house. Is this heaven? Are we dead? Did we do the spell wrong?”

“Those are complicated questions,” said Lily. “We have been asked to have you wait; I promise you that eventually you will receive all the answers you need, but now is not the time.”

“At least tell us if we’re dead,” said Brook, anxious that all their plans might be ruined, his eyes darting between his parents, begging for an explanation.

James reached out and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Harry, you need to be calm down. Take a deep breath.” When Brook had complied and the colour returned to his face, James said, “Good. Now, while we can’t tell you everything yet, we can tell you that you aren’t dead.”

“How can we be with you if we’re not dead? Or are you four not dead either?” asked Ginny.

“That’s a little hard to explain,” said Lily. “We are dead. This could be called an ‘in-between’ spot. We’ve been granted special permission to spend this time with you; there is a reason for us to be here, but we will talk about that later. First, we want to catch up and to get to know our daughter-in-law,” she said, trying to reassure them.

Ginny and Brook looked at each other. It looks like we don’t have a choice, Harry; we’ll have to be patient. Let’s just enjoy this time with your parents, thought Ginny.

I don’t think that will be difficult, thought Brook, his face breaking out in a huge smile.

At that moment, Angela came to the table with a tray, laden with a plate piled high with cookies, several glasses of milk, and one mug of butterbeer. “Ginny, what would you like to drink?”

“Um, pumpkin juice, if you have it,” she replied.

“We have anything you like,” said Angela as she turned back to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher filled with the orange beverage. After pouring a glass for Ginny, she returned to the table and sat down.

Everyone helped themselves to the snacks. “Mmm, these are wonderful, Mom,” said Brook, holding up one of the chocolate chocolate chip cookies. “I’ve really missed these.”

Angela smiled at her son. “I’m glad I made them this morning, then. They’re a favourite of James’, too. Though how he can drink that sickly sweet butterbeer with them, I’ll never know.”

James shrugged. “I guess I’ve got a sweet tooth,” he said, triggering a chuckle from the other three parents.

There was a short period of awkward silence as none of the people at the table knew just where to start. Lily broke the quiet by saying, “Harry, I can’t tell you how proud we are of the man you have become. We’ve been able to watch you periodically through the years and have been especially gratified at the manner in which you’ve adjusted to everything the last year and a half. Much of that credit should go to Mark and Angela,” she said, smiling at Brook’s parents. “We couldn’t have done a better job at raising you than they have. Although, until Dumbledore discovered that we were related, I’ll have to admit that I was very confused as to why my spell sent you to the States. I had no clue that I had a cousin there. That certainly wasn’t my intention when I cast it.”

“So, was Remus right that you meant to send me to your sister Petunia?” asked Brook.

“Yes, that was what I expected to happen. You would be safe with her until Sirius could retrieve you. I knew that Voldemort would never guess that I would send you to the Muggle world. James had left Sirius a letter, enchanted like the Marauder’s Map so that only he could read it, explaining where you were. However, he never read the letter, since he was imprisoned so quickly after we were killed.” Lily’s eyes darkened as she continued, “But I had no idea that she’d been murdered by that bastard husband of hers. I never liked him and knew he wasn’t nice, but I had no clue that he was abusing her.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and when she opened her eyes again, her face was calm again. “It all worked out for the best though. The spell sent you to Mark and Angela. It still gives me chills thinking about what your life would have been like had you been raised by my sister and her husband.”

“Imagine our surprise when we learned the truth about you,” added Angela. “We were so confused about what was going on with you. While we can observe loved ones in the living world, time flows differently here, and, if we take a break to eat a meal or go to sleep, sometimes a few minutes pass in your world, while other times, weeks can go by. We were so thankful when James and Lily found us and explained the Wizarding world to us. Since then we’ve been spending lots of time together. They even moved their house next door,” she said pointing out the window. Brook and Ginny turned and gasped as they saw a cottage. They both recognized it as the cottage that Harry had lived in as a baby from pictures that Remus had shown them.

At their questioning looks, James said, “The limitations that we dealt with while we were alive don’t apply here. The things that we can do here dwarf even what can be done with magic.”

Mark leaned forward. “Tell us more about what’s happened to you since we died, Brook. As Lily said, we have been able to observe you, but our viewing of you has been, shall we say, choppy, at best.”

Angela said, “Yes, tell us how you reacted when you met Ginny here. That’s something we missed.”

Brook turned red and Ginny giggled. “He was gobsmacked,” she said. “I thought someone had Petrified him. But after a few moments, he regained his senses, and shortly afterwards, he saved my life.”

Ginny then told the story of the events on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, with occasional embellishments from Brook. Brook and Ginny continued to fill in other holes that the parents had not seen during their observations of their lives. Both the Potters and Peltons then revealed stories about Brook as he grew up, embarrassing him multiple times, especially when they teased him about his ‘dream girl,’ but Ginny loved learning these accounts from Brook’s childhood. By the time they were done, many tears had been shed, both happy and sad, and all of their abdominal muscles were sore from laughing.

Angela stood up, pulling Brook up with her and pushing him toward the door to the garage. “Why don’t you men go work on the car a little while we work on dinner? I know your dad has been hoping for a chance to work on this new car with you,” she said with a smirk on her face.

As the men left, Angela looked over at Ginny. “What? Why are you smiling?”

“The smirk on your face as you drove the guys out of the room, it reminded me of Harry’s smile,” explained Ginny. “If I didn’t know better, that smile would make me think you are his birth mother, not Lily.”

Angela blushed. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

Ginny stood up and said, “Let me help you with dinner. What can I do?”

Angela said, “No, sit down. That dinner comment was just a ploy to let the three of us have some bonding time, woman to woman to woman. One of the benefits to being here is that dinner whips itself up in no time.”

The three women sat back down, and Angela looked intensely at Ginny. “The main reason I wanted the men out of here was to tell you something.” She leaned in and placed her hand over Ginny’s. “I want to thank you for all that you have done for Brook. I can’t imagine how he could have coped with everything that has been thrown at him if you hadn’t been there for him. When we were able to watch the two of you, your love for each other was obvious, but, now seeing it first-hand, it’s almost overwhelming seeing how happy you make my son.” She wiped at a tear that was threatening to escape her eye. “I can’t imagine a better match for Brook.”

“I feel the same way,” said Lily from the other side of the table.

Angela leaned over closer and gave Ginny a bone-crushing hug.

“You’re welcome, Angela. He makes me happy, too.”

“I can see that. And please, I know that Brook calls your parents ‘Mum’ and ‘Dad.’ Would you be willing to call me ‘Mom’?”

Ginny pulled her into another hug. “I’d be honoured to.”

A knock at the backdoor caused the two women to separate. “Come in,” said Angela. “It’s open.”

Ginny gasped at the Pelton’s visitor. She jumped out of her chair, running over to the door. “Fleur!!” Ginny and Fleur grabbed each other into a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Harry shouldn’t be the only one who gets to meet lost family members while you are here,” she said with a smile. “I couldn’t miss the opportunity to see you and thank you for all you and Harry are doing for Bill and Cat.”

“We’ve been happy to do it. Thanks for choosing us to be her godparents. Harry especially is enjoying his time with Cat.”

“I can tell. Have you ever had a chance to watch them together, when he doesn’t know you’re watching?” When Ginny shook her head, she continued. “You should. Borrow his cloak sometime. He is going to be a wonderful father someday. You are one lucky witch.”

Ginny noticed that Lily was talking to another woman who must have come in with Fleur. “Who is this?” she asked Fleur quietly. “Another relative of Lily’s?” she asked, noticing the red hair.

Fleur said, “She’s the other reason I wanted to see you.” She turned and called across the room, “Izzy, come here.” The woman walked toward Ginny and Fleur, and Ginny was struck by a feeling of familiarity. She looked about twenty-five, her hair styled in a cute bob, her face with just a smattering of freckles. But it was the eyes that really registered with her. They remind me of Charlie’s eyes, she thought.

Fleur said, “Ginevra, I would like to introduce you to Isolde Weasley, your sister.”

Ginny stood there for a moment, her mouth gaping open, before sitting down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs. “My sister? How?”

Izzy smiled and sat down next to Ginny, taking her hand. “Haven’t you ever noticed that your brothers were born two years apart, other than the gap between Charlie and Percy, which is four years? Mum and Dad actually planned to have a child every two years, at least until you came along.” She smirked, looking just like the twins when she did it. “Did you know you were the only one that wasn’t born as planned? Don’t get me wrong, they wanted another child, but you were supposed to come along a year later than you did. Anyway, I was meant to be born in 1974, between Charlie and Percy. But Mum had a miscarriage.” Izzy’s head dropped and her voice quieted. “It took her quite a while to recover from the loss. Mum and Dad even considered not having any other children. It was probably good that Percy was such an easy boy to raise; if she had the twins next, I’m sure they would have been the last,” she said as the twins’ smirk returned to her face.

“I’ve been watching the family all of these years, and I was so glad to see you come along. I’ve met our Uncles Gideon and Fabian here, and they say that, while Mum recovered emotionally from losing me, it was obvious to them that Mum hadn’t totally healed. She really wanted a girl. While she loves your brothers with all of her heart, they could tell that she was disappointed each time she learned she was having another boy. Your birth finally restored her from the loss and she finally was her real self.” Izzy leaned over and hugged Ginny, whispering, “Thanks for bringing her back.”

**********

In the garage, Mark slid under the car and Brook assumed a position that allowed him easy reach the tools on the ground and then pass them to his dad. James sat in a chair off to the side, keeping out of the Peltons’ way. “Finally, we’re away from the women so I can bring up the topic I was dying to talk about in there: Quidditch.” The smile on his face almost stretched from ear to ear. “Lily never ‘got’ Quidditch, and never lets me observe the Hogwarts matches. Mark here just keeps going on about how great football and baseball are,” James said, rolling his eyes. “So, Harry, Ginny said you were on the Gryffindor team. Did you help bring the House Cup back to the Lions?”

“Yeah,” Harry responded. “We won the Cup this year.”

“What position did you play?”

“I was the Seeker for the first two games and then played Beater the last game because of a last minute injury.”

“That’s alright. Chaser’s the best position, but it’s not for everyone.”

“I saw that you were Chaser when you were in school in the trophy room. Ginny’s a Chaser, and a pretty good one.”

“Were you any good? I imagine that coming in a seventh-year and never flying before must have been hard. Did you catch the Snitch?”

Harry’s face warmed. “I picked it up pretty quickly. The flying I did in airplanes helped a lot. I caught the Snitch both times I played Seeker.”

“Do you follow a team? I’m a Portree man myself.”

“I haven’t really had much of a chance to follow professional Quidditch. I suppose I have to pull for Ballycastle.”

“The Bats? Why do you ‘have’ to pull for them?”

Harry smirked. “Well, they are offering me a lot of Galleons to play for them.”

James’ eyes widened. “You’re going to play professional Quidditch?!!”

“Yep, both Ginny and I hope to, at least if we can take care of this Voldemort problem. Ron’s already playing for the Bats. We’re going to make it a family affair.”

James sat back in his chair, looking up in the air. “Wow, my son, playing professional Quidditch. I never would have imagined it. Now, Lily will have to let me watch Quidditch!”

Brook chuckled to himself at James’ enthusiasm. It reminds me of the way Dad would get when I played baseball. The thought warmed his heart, knowing that pride in their son was something that both of his dads shared. He turned his attention back to his dad that was under the car.

“So, Dad, why this car? It seems familiar to me, but I can’t place it.”

“This is a 1964 Corvair. It’s just like the one your granddad had. He loved that car; he always said that it handled like a sports car, but had a back seat. Unfortunately, your grandma made him sell it for a station wagon when I got older. I never had a chance to drive it, but I always wanted to. Now, I have that chance.”

“That’s why it’s familiar. I’ve seen pictures of you with it when you were a kid,” said Brook.

After a few minutes, James commented, “You two are really a good team. It seems like Harry hands you a tool before you even ask for it, Mark.”

“We do work well together,” replied Mark from under the car. “It’s as if no time at all has passed since we last overhauled a car. If you could stay, Brook, we’d have this car ready in no time. You are a huge improvement over the help I currently have,” the teasing tone obvious in his voice.

“Hey, what am I, chopped liver?” asked James, indignant at the implied slight at his assistance. “It’s not my fault that you Yanks have different names for all of these tools!”

Mark could be heard chuckling from underneath the car. “You’ve been a big help, James. It’s just that Brook and I have a lot more experience with each other. And I’m really looking forward to your contributions once we do get this car tuned up.”

Brook, confused at emphasis on ‘your’, looked over to James, who had a mischievous grin on his face. “What do you two have planned?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

James lowered his voice. “Don’t tell your mums, but I’m going to add a flying charm to it once it’s done.”

“Cool,” said Brook. “Ginny’s dad did that on his Ford Anglia. Is it complicated?”

“No, it’s pretty straightforward. I’ve never done it on a car before, but I did cast it on a motorcycle before I was married.”

“You had a motorcycle? A flying motorcycle?” asked Brook. “I love driving my motorcycle. I think it’s the other reason I picked up flying on a broomstick so easily.”

“Yeah, Sirius and I fixed it up after we finished Hogwarts. I don’t know what happened to it. You’ll have to ask Sirius about it. I was going to suggest restoring a Triumph just like it as our next project, once we’re finished with the car.”

Lily opened the door and called out, “Dinner’s just about ready; go get cleaned up.”

After washing up, Brook had barely entered the kitchen when he was engulfed in a hug. His vision was obscured by a mane of silvery blonde hair, so he quickly determined the identity of the hugger. “Hi, Fleur,” he whispered. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Fleur kissed Harry on both cheeks before hugging him again. She then pulled back and Harry could see the tears in her eyes. “ ’arry, I can’t thank you enough for all you have done for my Bill and my Cat. I don’t know what Bill would do without you.”

“Oh, he’d be fine. I’m not doing that much,” replied Harry.

“That is not true. I’ve seen you with Bill; you’re letting him talk when he needs to and giving him his space when he needs that. I’m certain that this mystery you’ve been letting him help on is taking his mind off of his loss. And how you’re raising Cat. I know it’s only been a few weeks, but how much she has changed. It’s obvious she really loves you.”

Harry felt his face warm at the pretty Veela’s praises. “I love her, too. I know I’ll never replace her Maman, but I’m doing my best.”

“Your best is all I could ask of you. Come, let us sit and enjoy the meal your mums have prepared.” She led him over to the table, where Ginny was already sitting, her face showing the enjoyment that she was having on this day. He sat in the empty chair next to her and squeezed her hand under the table.

“Harry, I want you to meet my sister, Izzy,” said Ginny, pointing to the woman sitting on her other side. “She would have been born between Charlie and Percy, but Mum miscarried.”

After recovering from the surprise, Brook reached across Ginny and shook Izzy’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. I didn’t know Molly had lost a child.”

“No one does,” said Izzy. “Mum and Dad kept it a secret.”

Brook’s attention was brought to the table when Angela said, “Brook, I hope your tastes haven’t changed too much in the last two years.” He then took in the spread and was amazed by the meal that was laid across the table. It was a combination of his favourite dishes from both the Muggle and magical worlds. His mouth was watering at the sights and smells of the wonderful meal. “No, you don’t have to worry about that,” he said as he reached for the macaroni and cheese that was in front of him.

The meal was very similar to many Brook had eaten at the Burrow, filled with great food, interesting conversation, lots of laughing, and, most importantly, love. At one point, Ginny patted him on his thigh, smiled at him, and thought, I’m so glad you are getting to experience this with your family.

After yet another embarrassing story about Brook as a child, this one telling the time he couldn’t wait for dinner and had attempted to eat a frozen fish stick before it had been placed in the oven, Brook asked his sister-in-law, “Izzy, do you know any stories about Ginny as a little girl? I don’t want to be the only one being embarrassed tonight.”

“As a matter of fact, I do know a few,” she said with a wink. “Most of them involve some sort of prank. One time, when she was seven, she ‘borrowed’ Fred’s brand new wand, snuck up on Ron, and turned his hair purple. Mum was livid, since it was a few days before they were due to take a family picture and no one could reverse it. All of the boys were lined up on the sofa, being questioned by Mum and Dad. Mum said, ‘None of you will be allowed to play until the guilty party admits what they did.’ Of course, all of them denied responsibility, since they hadn’t done it. As they were being questioned, little Ginny walked by the room on her way to go outside when Ron pointed at her and said, ‘What about her? Why does she get to play?’ Dad called her over and asked if she knew anything about Ron’s hair. She looked up at him with these big brown eyes and said innocently, ‘Daddy, I’m too wittle to do magic.’ She hadn’t had difficulty saying her ‘L’s for several years. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn she was part Veela at that moment. You could almost see our Dad’s heart melt. He patted her on the head and said, ‘Of course, you are, princess. Go on outside and play.’ The boys were stuck inside the whole afternoon, being grilled by our parents. Mum finally used Prior Incantato on all of their wands and determined that it was Fred who was the culprit. He was grounded for a fortnight because of it.”

“So, she played the ‘baby of the family’ card a few times?” asked James.

“All of the time,” answered Izzy. “I am sure that Mum and Dad to this day have no idea how many of those pranks that they blamed on the twins were actually done by her.”

Ginny’s embarrassment was interrupted by a knock at the door. Angela arose and greeted their latest visitor.

“Professor Dumbledore!” said Brook as the old wizard entered the room.

“Please join us, Professor,” said Lily.

“Thank you, but I’ve already eaten.” His eyes then noticed something on the counter, and he added, “However, I could probably be convinced to have a serving of Lily’s wonderful treacle tart. I remember that being the highlight of many Order meetings during the first war.”

He sat down, dessert was served, and the conversation continued. After everyone had finished, Professor Dumbledore said, “It is time for explanations. Mr and Mrs Potter, the younger ones, would you accompany me into the next room so we can discuss why you are here.”

Brook had a sensation of déjà vu as both he and Dumbledore settled into the same seats as they had sat in many months ago when he had first learned about the Wizarding world. “I hope you have enjoyed your time visiting with your loved ones,” said the former Headmaster. “It was necessary for you to be here for some time so that your spell could take effect, and I thought this would be more pleasurable than, for example, sitting in a deserted train station for several hours.”

At their obvious confusion, he resumed. “I have been deeply interested in your Bond since you learnt of it and how you were going to use it to defeat Tom. Since my death, I have continued to observe you and your friends as closely as I can. After Miss Granger discovered the Aufero Malum spell, I did my own research on it. One of the advantages of the afterlife is that one doesn’t have to read books for research, but one can access the substantial experiences of those who have passed on before. So, I discussed the spell with Nicolas Flamel, a former colleague of mine. He was able to give me some information that he himself learned from a friend that is not in any book. According to him, the information that Miss Granger has found in The Bright Arts, unfortunately, is incomplete.

“When the spell is cast, the dark essence is indeed removed from the object or being upon which it is cast. However, that essence or spirit continues to exist for a period of time, and the couple who casts Aufero Malum can see it. To truly eradicate this spirit, a second spell must be cast. The incantation for it is Obcidione Caedo. In the case of an inanimate object, if this second spell is not cast, the dark essence can re-enter its host.

“For living beings, the process is more complicated. It is very traumatic for a part of one’s soul to be removed, even if it is a small part. When the dark essence is removed, it destabilizes the remaining portion of the being’s soul. If Obcidione Caedo is cast shortly after Aufero Malum, it will result in death, like it did to Koschei and this is what you will have to do when you face Tom.” Ginny and Brook nodded in understanding.

“However, if one wants the being to survive, then time must be given for the two soul fragments to coalesce and stabilize before casting Obcidione Caedo on the dark portion. Once the two portions are stable, then it is safe to cast the spell. If it is cast too soon, then both parts of the soul will be destroyed and the being will die. That is why the two of you are here, in this ‘in-between’ existence, to allow your spirits to stabilize so that you can cast Obcidione Caedo on the fragment of Voldemort that was in each of you.”

“Where are these fragments of Voldemort’s soul?” asked Brook.

Dumbledore waved his hand and a door appeared in the wall. The trio stood up and walked to the door. Brook reached toward the door knob, but hesitated and sent a questioning look to the former Headmaster. At his nod, Brook gripped the knob and opened the door.

On the other side of the door was a small cupboard. As soon as the door opened, Brook and Ginny recognized the whimpering noise that they had heard earlier, but now it was much louder. Lying on the floor of the cupboard were two small creatures that were the source of the whimpers. They were pink, furless, and were writhing as if in pain.

They remind me of those animals we saw at the zoo we visited, thought Ginny. You know the ones, they were in the dark room and had tunnels between the different viewing areas. What were they called?

Naked mole rats. You’re right, that’s what they do look like. They look like they’re suffering.

“Are those the soul fragments that we received from Voldemort?” asked Ginny.

“Yes, they are. They have stabilized enough that they now appear solid, which indicates that it is safe for you to cast Obcidione Caedo. The wand movement is a simple pointing of your wand at the target. It is time.”

The couple nodded to each other and simultaneously said, “ Obcidione Caedo! ” while pointing at the closest soul fragment. A bright purple light struck each small creature and instantly the whimpering and writhing ceased.

“Excellent,” said Dumbledore. “You have now removed the tarnish on your souls and they should be ‘pure’ once again. I am sure you will have no problems casting Aufero Malum now.” He turned and sat back down, indicating that they should join him with a wave of his hand. Brook closed the door to the cupboard, and it disappeared as soon as it closed. After they sat down, Dumbledore asked, “Do you have any more questions before you return back to your world?”

“What if we didn’t learn about Obcidione Caedo?” asked Ginny. “What would have happened if we had cast Aufero Malum on Voldemort but not Obcidione Caedo?”

“Then the soul and soul fragments would stay forever in the ‘in-between’ place, at least until the earthly body died a natural death. It would be similar to what occurs when someone receives a Dementor’s Kiss,” explained the former Headmaster.

“You explained that you learned this from a colleague, Nicolas Flamel I think you said was his name. Who did he learn it from?” asked Brook.

“I believe Miss Granger told you that there were six Soul Bound couples on record. Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel were one of those six. They learned the spell directly from Ivan and Marya Morevna, the Soul Bound couple that defeated Koschei.”

“Wait,” said Brook, his brow furrowed. “You said that Flamel was a colleague of yours. Koschei and the Morevnas lived in the sixteenth century. They didn’t live at the same time. How could the Flamels learn the spell from the Morevnas?”

Dumbledore smiled and said, “I think your wife knows the answer to that question,” as he turned toward Ginny. “I assume that your brother told you about his adventures with Miss Granger and Mr Longbottom from their first year.”

Ginny thought for a moment before her eyes widened when she figured it out. “The Philosopher’s Stone. It can create the Elixir of Life, which indefinitely extends one’s life. Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone. How old was he when he died in 1992?”

“Six hundred and sixty five, I believe,” answered Dumbledore.

Harry’s jaw dropped. “That would mean he was born in the thirteen hundreds! So, he would have been alive in the time of Koschei and Morevnas!”

“Yes, he and his wife were actually good friends with Ivan and Marya. I have learned much about Soul Bonds in the past few months from these two couples.”

“Like what?” asked Ginny.

Dumbledore smiled. “The Flamels and Morevnas have suggested that you learn these secrets yourself; it will be more fun that way.” His face turned more serious as he said, “Alas, it is time for you to return to your earthly bodies. Please say your goodbyes and then come back here.”

Brook and Ginny arose from the couch, sad that their visit was coming to a close. As they entered the kitchen, it was obvious from the faces of their family that they also knew that it was time to say farewell. Hugs, kisses, and good-bye messages were shared among the eight gathered there.

“Harry, kick Voldemort’s arse quickly so you can get on with your Quidditch career,” offered James. “And tell Sirius to get off his paws and propose to Aubrey.”

“You are so good for my Brook,” said Angela to Ginny. “Next time you visit our home, make sure you find my cookie recipes; it’s really the best way to get him to open up, sharing cookies and milk late at night.”

“Treat Ginny right, and give me some grandchildren to watch, but not for a few years,” said Lily.

“Thanks for being a wonderful godmother to Cat,” said Fleur to Ginny. “Give Bill a kiss for me.” To Harry, she said, “I can’t say how much it means to me how you are caring for my baby and my Bill. Thank you again.”

“Once you’re done with all this, Brook, maybe you should find another car to rebuild. An MGB could be fun,” suggested Mark.

“Tell Mum that I’m happy and her brothers are still as irrepressible as ever,” said Izzy. “I wish I could have been raised by her, but this has worked out well. Give her as big a hug as you can from me as soon as you see her.”

“Don’t forget to reserve time for just the two of you, no matter how busy you get,” advised Angela to Brook. “There will be times when you’ll both be so tired of life, between jobs and raising kids. When that happens, send the kids to Ginny’s parents and get away for a few days. It’s amazing how refreshing some couple time can be.”

Eventually, Brook and Ginny, their faces wet with tears, returned to the living room, where Dumbledore waited patiently. Brook grabbed Ginny’s hand before saying, “We think we’re ready. So, how do we get back? Click our heels three times and recite ‘There’s no place like home’?” They heard giggles interspersed with sniffles from Mark and Angela behind them, but Dumbledore just looked at Brook quizzically. “Sorry, Muggle humour. Really, how do we get back?”

“It’s quite simple,” said Dumbledore. He waved his wand and the couch transfigured into a small bed. “Lay down, hold hands, and I’ll cast a sleeping charm over you. When you wake, you will be back where you belong.”

Brook and Ginny did as requested and their last tear-filled view was their families waving goodbye to them before they could no longer keep their eyes open any longer.

When they opened their eyes again, the only thing they could see was white. Oh, no! thought Harry. We’re back where we started!

But they both looked around some more and realized they were in a room that resembled the hospital wing, but much smaller, as it only contained the one bed that they were sharing. They both stretched and yawned, causing Hermione, who was asleep in a chair next to the bed to jump up. “You’re both awake! How do you feel? What did you two do? Everyone has been so worried about you. Oh, I better get Madam Pomfrey. She’ll want to check you.” With that, Hermione practically ran out of a door they hadn’t noticed before.

I hope she didn’t want answers to those questions, thought Ginny, snickering. She never gave us a chance to respond.

A few moments later, Hermione dragged Madam Pomfrey into the room. The matron immediately began casting every spell Harry and Ginny had ever seen her cast upon a patient while Hermione stood to one side impatiently, her arms folded and tapping her foot. Every time Hermione tried to ask them a question, Madam Pomfrey hushed her and told her to wait.

When they had been given a clean bill of health, Madam Pomfrey said, “You two gave us quite a scare again. Some diagnostic charms read as if had had your soul sucked out, but others said you were perfectly fine. I’ve never seen anything like it. The only thing I could think of to do was to put you together and hope that your magic would take care of healing you.” She eyes narrowed and she wagged a finger at them, saying, “I don’t know what you two did, but, whatever it was, don’t do it again. Now, out of bed and back to the Room of Requirement with you,” she said as she left via the door she came through.

When they arose, another door appeared in the opposite wall. Hermione led them through it, and they were back in a room similar to the Gryffindor common room, but with only a few seats. They all sat down and Hermione asked, “What happened? I was so panicked when I found you lying on the floor, totally unresponsive.”

They explained about their interpretation of the new translation and how they had cast Aufero Malum on each other to purify their souls. “You didn’t! How could you do something so reckless without anyone around?”

Harry shrugged and said sheepishly, “We wanted to surprise you.”

Hermione glared at them. “What happened next?”

Ginny and Harry described their reunion with their families sadly, because they missed them already. Hermione eyes filled up with tears as they told about their experiences, but she was mostly interested in what they had learned from Professor Dumbledore.

“So, Aufero Malum isn’t enough? It just frees the soul from the object or person and you have to cast this second spell, Obcidione Caedo to destroy the soul fragment.” She thought for a moment, reviewing everything she had heard. “Had you waited for me,” she said as she glared at them, “I certainly would have done everything to convince you to not to do something as foolhardy as this, but I guess we never would have learned this if you hadn’t done it. In the end, it was a good decision,” she acquiesced.

“What happened when you found us?” asked Ginny.

“When I came in the room, you can imagine how I reacted. I don’t deal with surprises very well. I panicked for a few moments, but then gathered myself enough to ask the Room to provide a Hospital Wing Annex that would be a bridge between here and Madam Pomfrey. She already told you what she did, and I just sat at your bedside until you awoke.”

“How long were we out?” asked Harry.

Hermione looked at her watch. “It’s about seven in the morning now, so I guess about twenty hours. That reminds me, it’s late enough that you can start explaining to everyone what you did. And I mean ‘you.’ You can tell your family how foolish you are.”

After several Floo calls during which Harry and Ginny gave an abridged version of what they did and were scolded for their actions, they stood up and Harry said, “Hermione, do you have the music box and Serpent Staff with you?” When she nodded, he suggested, “Let’s try what we’ve learned.”

Hermione’s eyes brightened. “Great idea! Are you sure you’re up to it, though? You did just awake from something resembling a coma an hour ago.”

“We feel fine,” said Ginny. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can start working on how we’re going to find Voldemort to give him the same treatment.”

Hermione retrieved the cursed music box from her beaded bag and placed it on a small table. Harry and Ginny cast Aufero Malum like Bill had suggested and, like before, the two bright white lights merged and hit the cursed object. However, this time, a mist erupted from it and it floated in the air, slowly taking the form of a glazed-over face. Ginny aimed her wand and said, “Obcidione Caedo” and the purple light hit the shape, causing it to burst apart into thousands of pieces, each of which gradually faded into nothingness.

Hermione jumped and clapped. “You did it!” she exclaimed before pulling the couple into a hug. When she had calmed herself, she asked, “Do you feel up to trying it on the Staff?”

“Sure,” said Harry, grinning.

Ginny removed the music box from the table while Hermione levitated the Serpent Staff out of her bag and set it down in the vacated space. They repeated the spell on the Staff, but this time, a ghostly form of Tom Riddle came out of the wood. It smiled and laughed, before saying, “You silly girl. Do you really think you can defeat me again?”

Ginny gasped and hid her face in Harry’s chest. Harry, feeling Ginny’s fear, barely controlled his anger as he growled, “Obcidione Caedo!” As the spell raced toward the wraithlike form of Voldemort, his face changed from a sneer to one of fear. When it impacted the spirit, Riddle was instantly vaporized. Harry caressed Ginny’s back and whispered, “It’s okay; he’s gone.”

Ginny looked up at Harry, her face relaxing. “Thanks,” she muttered before kissing him passionately.

After a few moments, Hermione cleared her throat, causing Harry and Ginny to separate. “Sorry, Hermione,” said Ginny. “I got a little carried away there.”

“That’s alright,” Hermione said with a smile. “I totally understand.”

“I have an idea,” said Harry. “You know, we do have some messages to deliver. Why don’t we get Ron’s arse out of bed and throw a party at his place this afternoon? We should celebrate this accomplishment before we start planning for the next step. We could invite the rest of the family, Professor McGonagall, Sirius, Aubrey, and Lydia, if Professor McGonagall will let her come.”

“That’s a great idea,” said Hermione. “Let me wake him up,” she said, a sly grin on her face.

Ginny grinned and asked, “Exactly how do you plan on waking my brother? Or don’t I want to know?”

“I think we’ll keep that a secret. Why don’t you two eat some breakfast and take a shower and meet me there around eleven. That should give us enough time to prepare his place for the party.”

“It’s going to take you three hours to wake Ron up?” teased Harry.

Hermione shrugged and smiled innocently over her shoulder before leaving via the Floo that the Room had provided her.

A/N: Sorry about the confusion with switching back and forth between "Harry" and "Brook," but hopefully it wasn't too bad.

The Corvair I had Mark working on was my dad's favourite car. He absolutely loved it; unfortunately a neighbor teen who was watching our house while we were away on vacation decided to "borrow" it. He ended up totaling it.

By the way, I chose Mustangs because they are my wife's favourite car. One day I would love to buy her one.

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Chapter 54: Repercussions

Repercussions

Ginny paced the seventh floor corridor, curiosity filling her mind. She checked her watch one more time. 7:02. He’s late. The note said “Come to the Room at seven.” She had arrived about ten minutes early, and was surprised when there was no door visible. She tried walking back and forth, thinking I want the room where Harry is, but a door didn’t materialize then, either. What does he have planned? And why is he keeping me waiting?

After a few more moments of impatient waiting, a door gradually appeared in the wall. Grinning, Ginny quickly walked to it and pulled it open. She stopped at the threshold, surprised at what she saw. It looked like a walk-in wardrobe, filled with dress robes. On the opposite wall, there was a full-length mirror. As she tried to figure out what Harry was thinking, the mirror pivoted, to reveal Harry.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I wanted everything to be perfect.”

“What is this?” asked Ginny, still very confused.

“I am treating you to a special night, and wanted you to have something nice to wear. I asked the room to give you a closet full of choices, all in your size. The dresser there should have any undergarments that you may need. And shoes are to the right. Make sure you pick a dress you can move in and comfortable shoes; there will be dancing,” he said, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

Ginny’s eyes danced with excitement as she scanned the contents of the wardrobe. She pulled Harry into a hug and kissed him soundly. “Thank you, Harry. But I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

“To celebrate Valentine’s Day, of course, and the first anniversary of our engagement.”

“The card, flowers, and chocolate you gave me earlier today were more than adequate, Mr Potter,” she said, the corner of her mouth curling upwards.

“No, they aren’t, Mrs Potter,” he said kissing her quickly on the lips. “You deserve the best, for all you’ve done for me. And I owe you, after the disaster of a Valentine’s Day we had last year.”

“You don’t think fighting Death Eaters and Voldemort in Hogsmeade and ending up nearly dying in the hospital wing is romantic?” she teased.

“Well, it was nice waking up with you in my arms, but, no, the rest of the day was pretty much a complete debacle.” He gave her another quick peck and then said, “Now, pick out a dress and get ready. Dinner will be served at 7:45.”

Ginny did as she was told, picking out a midnight blue strapless dress with a sweetheart neckline that displayed just a hint of cleavage. The rest of the dress accentuated her curves wonderfully and ended just above the knee, with a slight slit on the side to reveal a little thigh. She took a little time to put on just a touch of make-up and used a charm to style her hair similar to the way she wore it at their wedding. When she was finished, she assessed herself in the mirror and thought, Not too bad. I’m sure Harry will appreciate it. She checked her watch and was pleased to see that she was actually ready a few minutes early.

She opened the door behind the mirror and walked into a dimly lit room. In the centre of the room, was a small table for two, set elegantly with a black tablecloth and white china. She heard a gasp, and turned toward the sound, and saw Harry, his mouth gaping, standing to the side, wearing a black suit, white dress shirt, and a solid emerald green tie. “You look absolutely gorgeous,” he said breathlessly as he approached.

She smiled flirtatiously, “You look quite dapper, yourself.”

He offered her his arm and led her to the table, pulling out her chair for her. After she was seated, Ginny took a good look at their surroundings. The room was lit solely with candles, some floating in midair, some clustered in groups in tall holders against the walls. There was even a glass bowl filled with water on the table in which several candles bobbed amongst red, pink and white roses. The stone walls of the chamber were hung with flowing white draperies, which reflected the soft candlelight and gave the room a very romantic atmosphere. However, what caught Ginny’s attention the most were the sprays of flowers: each and every one, from the tiniest lavender to the deepest red carnation, proclaimed Harry’s love for her. And through their Bond, she could feel that love radiating towards her in waves that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Oh, Harry, this is lovely,” she sighed, thoroughly overcome with the depth of his love for her. “Flowers in the magical world are very symbolic. Do you know the meaning of each of these?”

Harry blushed. “Yes, I do. I found a book titled The Language of Flowers among Fleur’s belongings one day. The book gave me the idea for the décor for tonight.”

Ginny’s eyes became a little moist as she said, “Thank you very much for all of this. It means a lot to me that you put this much effort into our special night.”

“You are very welcome. I’m glad you like it,” he replied, giving her a peck on the cheek.

After a few moments of small talk, Harry picked up a bell that was sitting on the table and rang it. A moment later, Dobby appeared with spinach salads with sliced strawberries, and poppy seed dressing for each of them. The dinner continued similarly, with the entrée being prime rib, garlic mashed potatoes, and steamed asparagus with lemon butter sauce. For dessert, Dobby placed a plate with a slice of chocolate torte, raspberries, vanilla ice cream, and chocolate sauce between them with two forks.

When they were finished, Ginny dabbed at her lips with her napkin and said, “My compliments to the chef; this was delicious.”

“I’m sure that Dobby will be delighted to hear that you enjoyed it.” He stood and walked around the table to her, offering his hand. “Are you ready for the next part of our evening?”

She nodded and took his hand. He led her to a pair of French doors, which opened with a wave of his hand. The doors led out onto a spacious veranda. The view from the veranda was breath-taking; the cloudless night was lit by a bright almost full moon, illuminating a small cove with a white sand beach. “Wow, the view is spectacular! Is this a real place, or just something you imagined?”

“It’s based on a resort my parents and I stayed at in Puerto Rico. We went there in 1996 after a hurricane and delivered food, drinking water, and cleaning supplies to people who had lost their homes in the storm. On the last night before we left for home we splurged on a nice hotel.”

They stood at the railing for a while, just enjoying the view and the gentle sea breeze. Harry snapped his fingers, and music began to play. He bowed to Ginny and asked, “May I have this dance, my love?”

She smiled at him, curtsied and said, “Of course.” The couple danced several songs, enjoying holding each other closely, and just a few kisses were shared.

Harry leaned in and whispered in Ginny’s ear, “Would you like to take a walk on the beach?”

Ginny’s face lit up. “Can we? I would love to!”

Harry led her to the stairs on the edge of the balcony and they walked down to the beach. There, they took off their shoes and walked barefoot up and down the beach, hand in hand, occasionally allowing the waves to wash over their feet.

Ginny yawned and said, “The fresh air and sounds of the waves breaking are really relaxing. I’m starting to get a little sleepy.”

“Let’s go back up, then,” suggested Harry. When they reached the veranda, Harry pulled open the French doors, and Ginny was surprised to see, not the dining room where they had eaten earlier, but a replica of the bedroom from the Pelton cabin in Michigan. Harry smirked, “I couldn’t think of a more romantic setting than where we spent our first night together.”

Ginny pulled his face to hers and kissed him passionately. “I totally agree,” she said when she was finished snogging him senseless. Before Harry had a chance to catch his breath, she turned, and said, “Unzip me, please.”

**********

A few weeks later, Ginny was writing an Ancient Runes essay when Harry Apparated into her suite after a long day with Cat. “Hi, Harry. How was your day? Cat keep you on your toes?”

Harry came up behind her and kissed her on the cheek and then the neck. “Always. She was in rare form today; she decided that she didn’t want to take a nap today.”

Ginny turned in her chair and said, “Oh, you poor dear,” she said sarcastically. “Perhaps I can make it up to you when I’m done with this essay,” she said smiling. “It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

“Take your time,” said Harry as he sat down on Ginny’s couch. Ginny turned her attention back to her parchment until a few minutes later, she heard, “Oh, no. Not more.”

She raised her head and saw that Harry was reading The Daily Prophet. Darn, she thought. I meant to Vanish that before he arrived. She knew exactly what article Harry was reading.

You-Know-Who, Death Eaters Attack Again

Thirty-two Killed

The Dark Mark was seen in the skies over southern Britain last night as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named continued his renewed rampage through the countryside when he and his Death Eaters massacred another small Muggle village just outside of Henfield, West Sussex. Eyewitness Auror accounts estimated that there were at least twenty Death Eaters present, and You-Know-Who himself was also spotted. Unfortunately, as soon as Aurors arrived, the attackers Apparated away, so no arrests were made, but that also resulted in no casualties among the Aurors. By the time they arrived, most of the village had been destroyed and Muggle authorities confirmed that there were thirty-two dead and another eighty-one sent to local hospitals. Among the dead were a Wizarding family, the Cattermoles, parents Reginald and Mary, and children Alfred, Ellie, and Maisie. Reginald, a Ministry employee in the Magical Maintenance Department, and his family were visiting Muggle relatives at the time of the massacre. They seemed to be the target of the attack, since the Dark Mark was cast over the house where they were found.

Mary Cattermole was questioned by the Muggle-Born Registration Commission in September, but was cleared of charges that she stole her magic from a pure-blood. Reporters of The Daily Prophet have discovered that, at the scene of five of six of the recent attacks, victims have included Muggleborn witches or wizards who had been questioned but released by the Commission. This reporter cannot help but wonder if there is a connection between these facts.

After several months of relative quiet, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his minions have struck six times in the last four weeks, causing even more anxiety among Wizarding folk. Aurors have no explanation for the sudden increase in attacks …

Ginny pushed back her chair and sat next to Harry on the couch and pulled the paper out of his hands. “Please, Harry, don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Get into a mood, blaming yourself for the deaths of these victims.”

“Whose fault is it, then? If we hadn’t cast Aufero Malum on ourselves, Tom would still be feeling poorly and these people would probably still be alive.”

Ginny sighed. “True,” acquiesced Ginny reluctantly. “But we didn’t realize when we purified our souls from the remnants he left in us that it would sever our connection with him, too. Unfortunately, that means that our lovemaking no longer affects him. No one did.” The renewed attacks had begun about one week after Harry and Ginny had performed the purification ritual, and for a while, the Order was mystified why the sudden change. Then, Snape had reported that Voldemort’s health had made an unexpected turn for the better, and eventually Hermione had connected the dots.

Ginny put a hand on his arm. “Harry, we go through this every time there is another attack. We. Are. Not. To. Blame. Voldemort and his Death Eaters are. Yes, we do need to do our part in bringing him down, but until we discover where he is hiding, there is not much we can do. You know that the Order is doing its best to find him, now that he is vulnerable, but not even Snape knows where his new hideout is.”

Harry’s shoulders drooped and he exhaled. “I know. I’m just getting impatient and all of these deaths are weighing on me.” He pulled Ginny into his arms and held her tightly. “Thanks for reminding me of that. What would I do without you?”

She pulled out of his hug and smirked. “I expect you’d be a right moody git.”

Harry slapped her playfully on the arm. “No, I wouldn’t. A prat, maybe, but never a git.” He pulled her back to his chest. “But I do know that I wouldn’t be anywhere near as happy as I am right now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Me, too, Harry. Me, too.”

**********

Harry and Ginny, when they arrived in the Room of Requirement for their usual training with Professor McGonagall, found it filled with family and friends. In addition to the Headmistress, Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Bill, the twins, Ron, Hermione, and Lydia were also there. “What is this, a surprise party? What’s the occasion?” asked Ginny.

The Headmistress’ lips curled just a bit but her face quickly reverted to its normal serious appearance. “No, today, I wanted to have a final exam, of sorts. I asked everyone to come to test your duelling.”

“Okay, I’ll start,” volunteered Harry. “Who am I duelling first?”

“Everyone,” said Professor McGonagall.

“Everyone?” asked Harry, a little nervousness creeping in, especially at the predatory looks on the twins’ faces.

“Yes, everyone,” said Professor McGonagall. “I expect that at some point you two may have to face a large group of Death Eaters all at once, and I think it would be prudent for you to face a similar situation under more controlled circumstances.” She concentrated for a moment and the Room transformed. The large nondescript room had been replaced by what looked like an entry hall. Harry and Ginny turned to take in their surroundings. Behind them was a large door and straight ahead was a corridor that led into a room, a large formal sitting room guessed Harry based on the small part that he could see. To the right there were some wide stairs with an ornate wooden bannister that led to the second floor. To the left there were two large pocket doors closing off another room. The dark hardwood floors were covered with Persian style rugs. The whole ambience reminded Harry of an old Victorian mansion from a horror movie. “I have asked the Room to duplicate an old manor, much like the Malfoys and Notts own,” explained the Headmistress. “To give this exercise more of a ‘real-life’ feel, I am giving the two of you a mission.”

The professor turned to Lydia. “Miss Forest, you will be held prisoner in the dungeons. Will you please hand me your wand?” When Lydia’s face showed obvious disappointment, McGonagall added, “Mr and Mrs Potter’s task will be to free you and then escape the manor.” She handed Lydia’s wand to Sirius and said, “Mr and Mrs Potter, please turn around.” When they had done so, they heard the Professor say, “Mr Lupin, please take Miss Forest to her cell.” A few moments later, she directed, “The rest of you, please take your assigned locations.”

Harry and Ginny felt a tap on their shoulders. After they had turned back around, Professor McGonagall said, “We’ll give them a few minutes to become situated, and then I’ll let you go. I am going to observe from above so I can evaluate your performance.” She walked over to a corner, picked up the broom that was propped there, and mounted it, side saddle. When she had flown into position, she said, “The high ceilings weren’t just for appearances; it will keep me out of the action. Are the two of you ready? Then, you may begin.”

The pair looked at each other and cast Disillusionment Charms on themselves and Silencing Charms on their feet. Harry balanced his wand on his outstretched palm and thought, Point Me Lydia. Bill had taught him this variation of the Four-Point Spell during their evening sessions a few weeks ago. His wand spun around until it pointed toward the back of the house.

Shall we? asked Harry. When Ginny nodded mentally, Harry took the lead and crept past the stairs, keeping close to the walls and approached the entry to the large room. At the threshold, he thought, You stay out here, at least until I see what we are facing in there. That way if there are too many for me to face, I can Apparate back to you easily before they can strike.

Harry slipped by the doorjamb and scanned the room for enemies, the drills that Remus had taught him coming back to him easily. No obvious opponents, he sent through their Bond. It seems safe; keep on my left flank. Next, they studied the room for potential hiding places, using both sets of eyes to get different views of the contents of the room. The sitting room had multiple formal chairs and sofas arranged in conversational groups, but none gave any cover for an adversary. That armoire just might be able to hide someone, he thought. Diminuendo he cast silently, and the large piece of furniture shrunk, revealing a surprised Ron.

Stupefy,” whispered Ginny a split second after Ron had lost his protection, and before Ron could react, he was unconscious on the ground. One, counted Ginny, holding up one finger and grinning. The couple tiptoed across the room, bound Ron in conjured ropes and confiscated his wand.

After ensuring there was no one else hidden in the room, they approached the door near where Ron had hidden, the only other exit from the room besides the way they had entered. Ginny cast a magic detection spell and the door glowed, alternating between bright orange and mauve colours.

Oh, Bill cast some nasty wards, thought Harry, a satisfied look on his face at finding the traps. They took positions on either side of the door and nodded at each other, simultaneously casting “Alohomora.” When their spells hit the door, about a dozen wooden spikes flew out from the door, imbedding themselves in the back of a sofa.

That takes care of the mauve spell, thought Ginny. Now for the orange one. She came over to stand next to Harry, and then said, “Diffindo! ” As soon as the spell left the tip of her wand, Harry raised as strong a shield as he could, knowing what Bill planned next. Any spell designed to damage the door would trigger white-hot flames to reflect back on the caster. Harry’s shield held and protected the rest of the room from becoming an inferno.

Ginny tried the detection spell again. All clear. Harry attempted to open the door, but it was still locked. Alohomora and even Open Sesame were ineffective. Portaberto did splinter the lock from the door, but the door still did not open. Blasting and Cutting Curses were just absorbed by the door with no damage.

Now what? asked Ginny.

I’ve an idea, thought Harry. He said, “Lubricus,” pointing his wand at each of the hinges in succession. Then, he cast the Levitating Charm on each hinge, pulling their pins. He then stepped back and whispered, “Accio top of door,” causing the door to fall on the floor in front of him.

Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek and thought, Very creative! before going through the doorway first this time. As she entered the room, everything became suddenly black. Lumos was unsuccessful, which told her it was the result of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. It must be the twins’ turn, she thought. Chiroptera Auriculus, she whispered as she pointed her wand at her head. She could sense that Harry had done the same behind her, still in the other room.

Scanning the room with the ultrasonic pulses, she identified two people, as she expected. It seems to be safe, she told Harry. When he was by her side, she thought, There is a portable swamp at twelve o’clock. I’ll go around it on the right and you take the left, she suggested. As they circled the swamp the darkness gradually faded, revealing another room very similar to the first, but it had less furniture. Ginny smirked as she noticed that the twins could not be seen, but the couple could sense them with the Bat Ears Charm. They must have improved their Headless Hats so that the whole body can be covered by the invisibility charm. She pointed her wand at George, while Harry pointed at Fred, and simultaneously they cast, “Accio Hats.”

Before the twins could react, their hats were flying off their heads and they could be seen again. Harry and Ginny attacked quickly, despite wanting to laugh at the looks of surprise on the twins’ faces. The twins regained their composure quickly enough to dodge the couple’s first spells and dive behind the sparse furniture that decorated the room. George pointed his wand at a box and flicked his wrist. Out of the box came dozens of round disks, flying directly at Harry and Ginny. Harry cast a shield, but the disks were not stopped by it. Several hit him before he could dodge them, cutting his skin wherever they struck, since they had sharp projections on the rims.

What are these things? asked Harry.

Fanged Frisbees, replied Ginny, dodging them herself. They must have removed the magic from them so that they could penetrate our shields. Look out! she warned as she pointed at the other twin. Fred has a paintball gun!

Conjure a real shield! urged Harry. That will block both the Frisbees and the paintballs! The couple conjured shields similar to those held by the suits of armour at Hogwarts, allowing them to block the twins’ double-pronged attack and gain the edge in the battle.

Realizing that their current strategy wasn’t working, Fred leaned over, picked up a glass orb and lobbed it so that it crashed against the floor between Harry and Ginny. Suddenly, the pair was enveloped in a blinding snowstorm. That must be one of their weather globes, thought Ginny.

And we know how to take care of that, thought Harry. “Vertex Prospero! ” he yelled. His conjured tempest quickly overpowered the Weasley’s weather charm and concentrated it into snow-filled mini-tornado. Harry guided the storm so that it engulfed first Fred and then George, picking them up and spinning them chaotically. When Harry halted the spell, the twins landed on the ground with a thump, their limbs tangled. George tried to extricate himself from Fred, who had turned his head and vomited, but fell as soon as he attempted to stand. Harry and Ginny ambled over to them, taking their time and suppressing the giggles that were struggling to escape their lips. When they arrived, Fred looked up at them, his face still a little green. “Just finish us off,” he pleaded. The couple complied and Stunned both of them, tying them up, and confiscating their wands.

Ginny raised two more fingers and thought, Three. Harry recast the Point Me Spell, and his wand pointed to a door on the left. Ginny discovered no wards on this door, so she entered first and found herself in a large library. After a few moments, Harry joined her at the centre of the room. They stood back-to-back, and circled slowly, their wands at the ready, prepared for the next attack.

They didn’t have to wait long. From each of the walls, a bookcase opened like a door, revealing four black robed and masked opponents. Tonks’ instructions on facing multiple opponents going through his mind, he thought, Identify who we’re facing.

I can see a shock of red hair on the one directly in front of me. He must be Bill.

So does the one in front of me, countered Harry. One of them must be Tonks. To my left is the smallest of the four, so she must be Hermione.

That leaves the one on my left to be Sirius, since Remus is probably guarding Lydia.

They continued to circle warily, waiting for their adversaries to strike first. The wizard in front of Ginny fired first, peppering her with several non-verbal fireballs. This must be Bill, she told Harry. A volley of fireballs is one of his favourite weapons. Ginny dodged most of them, but used a flick of her wrist to repel the ones that she couldn’t avoid. Sirius also attacked Ginny at the same time, sending a Blasting Curse at her, which she fended off with a shield.

Tonks and Hermione set their sights on Harry, firing a variety of hexes and curses at him. He was also able to avoid most of them with a combination of dodging and shields. This continued for several minutes, with Harry and Ginny choosing to stay defensive.

“Stop dodging! Fight back!” yelled Sirius, frustration obvious in his voice.

Harry and Ginny mentally nodded to each other and took the offensive. Ginny fired a Stunner at Sirius, and, while he was ducking, she pointed her wand just over his head and thought, Accio books! An avalanche of old tomes came flying at Sirius, several hitting him in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious. A few seconds later, he was buried underneath a mound of books. Four! thought Ginny gleefully.

Harry sent three rapid-fire Stunners at Hermione, one directly at her and one to each side of her, and then fired a fourth one directly behind the one to the left. She dodged to her right to avoid two of the spells, as Harry predicted from hours of observing her in the DA, and cast a shield to block the third. The force of his first Stunner shattered her shield and the fourth one hit her in the chest, her mouth agape at Harry’s spell work before she fell unconscious. Five! thought Harry.

This left just Tonks and Bill. Plan Plummet thought Ginny. The pair manoeuvred themselves so that they were directly back-to-back again, and, using specifically placed spells, forced their opponents into position. They continued to fight, not really trying very hard, but subtly keeping Tonks and Bill where they wanted them. Ginny and Harry were also sharing their senses so they could tell what spells were being thrown at the other.

Finally, the timing was perfect. Tonks had sent a Stunner at Harry at the same time Bill had cast one at Ginny. Just before the curse reached her, Ginny ordered, Duck! and both she and Harry dropped to the ground. Both red spells flew over their heads and struck their opponents, and they fell limply to the floor.

From their spots on the floor, Harry and Ginny grinned at each other and thought, Seven!

After binding all four of their opponents and taking their wands, Harry cast the Point Me Spell once again, and it pointed at a wall filled with bookcases and no obvious exit. Ginny waved her wand over the books and one lit up. She pulled it out and the shelves pivoted, revealing a passageway. At the end of the corridor, they found a door that opened to a large ballroom.

The room was impressive with vaulted ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and floor-to-ceiling windows that had a breath-taking view. Harry wondered if Professor McGonagall had modelled the room after the Disney movie Beauty and the Beast, which caused Ginny to snicker momentarily. Cautiously, the pair searched the room, but found no sign of Remus, Lydia, or even an exit that would lead to where Lydia was being held. Harry tried the Point Me Spell one more time, but this time his wand just spun on his palm. Concerned that he might have done it incorrectly, he performed the spell again, but the result was the same.

What does that mean? he asked. I wonder if Remus has somehow Confunded the spell.

It’s worked just fine all day. Why would it all of a sudden fail?

Harry’s eyes lit up. Maybe it isn’t failing. He stomped his foot down on the floor. Listen! It sounds hollow. He stomped again.

You’re right! They stepped off the large area rug that dominated the centre of the floor and Banished it to the edge of the room. Harry waved his wand over the area and the borders of a trapdoor glowed light blue. Finding no protective wards, he said, “Alohomora, ” and heard a click. He then levitated the door, revealing stairs that led downward. Harry lit his wand while Ginny cast a shield and they stepped into the darkness. At the bottom of the stairs there was a short corridor, at the end of which sat Remus.

“Took you long enough,” he said, standing calmly, his wand pointed in their direction.

“We held back a little,” said Harry with a smile. “Didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You won’t have that option when you face the real Death Eaters.” Suddenly, he aimed his wand just over their heads, yelling, “Bombarda Maxima! ” The ceiling and walls of the cramped corridor exploded, sending stone shrapnel everywhere.

The couple ducked down instinctively and Ginny conjured a metal dome to protect them from the debris. Inside the dome they could hear that Remus was continuing his onslaught, so they couldn’t escape for the moment. Harry used a Severing Charm to create a small hole in the dome and then said, “Serpensortia,” conjuring a black mamba. As soon as the snake appeared from the tip of his wand, he ordered, “Go and bite the man at the end of the corridor.”

The snake’s head turned toward Harry, staring at him for a moment. It then opened its mouth, revealing its fangs and black mouth, hissed, and then dove at Harry’s leg. Harry attempted to dodge the snake, but, between the limited space under Ginny’s conjured dome and the speed of the attack, he was unable to evade the biting fangs. Harry felt searing pain in his calf and then heat seemed to travel up his leg. In a few seconds, his vision started to fade, and he knew that his time was running out.

At the edge of his awareness, he heard Ginny say, “Vipera Evanesca,” followed by “Venenum Abrogum.” The pain in his leg instantly resolved and his vision cleared.

“Thanks, Gin,” Harry said weakly. “What happened? Why didn’t the snake obey me?”

“When you told the snake to bite Remus, it was English, not Parseltongue. We should have figured this would happen. I am guessing that when we removed the pieces of Tom from us, we lost the ability to speak Parseltongue.”

“That makes sense,” said Harry. “So, now what? I’m still pretty weak, but I know you can take him by yourself, if we can get him to stop his attack for just a moment.”

“I think I know what could work,” said Ginny. She crouched, took a deep breath, and then shouted, “Depulso! ” aiming her wand at the dome. It flew directly at Remus, surprising him, and causing him to dodge. While he was diving out of the way, he was unable to continue his barrage, which gave Ginny the split second opening that she needed.

Expelliarmus! ” she called out. Remus was able to twist and cast a shield, but it shattered the moment Ginny’s spell hit it, throwing him backwards and his head struck the wall with a thud. He dropped bonelessly to the ground in front of a cell door. Eight! they both thought, holding up eight fingers and smiling at each other.

Ginny helped Harry up and they walked together to the end of the corridor. When they neared the door they could see the top of Lydia’s head in the barred opening in the door. “Are you okay in there, Lydia?” asked Harry.

“I’m fine,” she replied.

After using the diagnostic spell again and finding no traps, Ginny said, “Stand back.” She allowed Lydia time to move away from the door before casting, “Expulso,” causing the door to be propelled into the cell. A few seconds later, Lydia strolled out of the cell, a smile on her face.

Professor McGonagall landed her broom next to the three teens and said, “Excellent work, you two.” She pointed her wand at Remus and said, “Rennervate,” and the wizard’s eyes fluttered open. As he stood and dusted off his robes, the Headmistress turned back to Harry and Ginny and said, “While you did very well, I do have some suggestions from observing you. First, …”

**********

March 23rd, 1999

Dear Aaron,

Wow, I’m envious of your spring break training trip with your baseball team. A few days in the Florida sunshine sounds great right about now. Spring has not arrived here in Cornwall, and the wind off the beach can really be biting at times. Cat is walking now (actually running would be more accurate as she rarely walks anywhere) and I would love to take her outside. However, to keep her warm enough, I have to bundle her so much that she can barely move. Maybe in a few weeks.

Taking care of Cat remains a lot of fun. Her vocabulary seems to grow daily and she is using magic a little more purposefully, which creates its own set of problems. But I’m dealing with it with frequent advice from Ginny’s mom.

Ginny’s final year of school is going well. I’m sure she’ll do great on the standardized exams at the end of the year, which are called N.E.W.T.s., or Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. She’s almost as smart as Hermione, but much less obsessive about studying, which I am very thankful of, because otherwise I would have almost no time with her.

Ginny’s Quidditch team won their second match of the season, almost as easily as the first one. There were several scouts from professional teams present to observe her, and it looks like the Ballycastle Bats are going to have some competition in signing her. The team that has the best chance of winning her services (other than the Bats, since Ron is already playing for them, and hopefully I will join them in the near future) is the Holyhead Harpies. They are the only all-witch team in the British league, and it has been a dream of Ginny’s since she was little to be a Harpy. We’ll have to see what offers she receives.

The search for Tom is on-going. Unfortunately, no one can seem to find his new hideout. At times, Ginny and I are a little frustrated, especially since we can’t help right now. We’d both like to have this just be done with so we can move on with our lives.

Speaking of moving on, Ron and Hermione’s wedding is fast approaching. Ron wants me to be his best man, but at this rate, I doubt that I’ll be able to do it, since I can’t let everyone know that I’m alive. But I am trying to help with some of the usual best man duties, such as calming him down when all of the planning gets to him. As a matter of fact, I’m going out with him tonight for a pseudo-bachelor party. His real bachelor party is in a few weeks, but since I can’t attend as Harry, the two of us are going to have a small celebration.

Hope the rest of your semester goes well.

Your friend,

Brook

**********

After sending his letter to Aaron with Hedwig, Harry used the Floo to travel to Ron’s flat. He hasn’t changed much since he moved in, thought Harry as he scanned the front room. He peeked in the open door to the bedroom. Other than the Cannon posters. And the bra on the floor, he thought with a snicker.

He stopped in the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror above the sink. He closed his eyes for a moment and then looked back in the mirror, seeing a dark skinned man with deep brown eyes that could have passed for an older brother of the Patil twins. Tonight will be the perfect chance to try out my new disguise. He focused his magic again, and his appearance morphed back to normal.

He went to the eat-in section of the kitchen and sat down to wait for Ron. In the middle of the table was a plate full of fudge. Mum must have made the rounds today, delivering treats to all of her boys. Molly had stopped by during Cat’s nap and left a plate of fudge for Bill, Cat, and Harry to share. Harry had controlled himself earlier and had only eaten one piece. Smelling the chocolate aroma wafting from the plate, he thought, Ron won’t miss just one piece, and popped it into his mouth.

**********

Harry opened his eyes and groaned. Why do I have such a horrible headache? He rubbed his forehead as he sat up and had to fight back the waves of nausea. Ron and I must have drunk way too much last night. I don’t even remember any of the evening. He reached to the bedside table, put on his glasses, and looked around, recognizing that he was in Bill and Fleur’s room. Guess someone must have brought me to Shell Cottage last night when we were done.

“Unca ‘arry! You 'wake!” Harry winced at Cat’s exclamation, his head throbbing. He looked up just in time to see Cat disappear, hearing the patter of her little feet running off toward the living room.

A moment later, Bill walked in the door, obviously concerned. “Oh, good, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Horrible. My head’s killing me and I feel like I might need to make a run to the loo if I move too fast.”

“Damn twins,” Bill grumbled.

“What? Did the twins join Ron and me then? How much did we drink? I don’t remember any of it.”

“Here,” said Bill, handing him a vial. “This should help.”

Harry groaned as he tipped his head back and swallowed the contents of the vial. A few moments later, the headache had diminished to a slight twinge and the nausea was gone. “Thanks. That Hangover Potion works wonders. Remind me never to go out drinking with my brothers-in-law again.”

“You don’t feel the way you do because you were drinking.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Harry pondered Bill’s question for a moment. “I was sitting at Ron’s and ate a piece of fudge. Then, I woke up back here.”

“That fudge you ate was a new prototype version for their Skiving Snackboxes. They were hoping for a longer duration of action than with their Fainting Fancies. However, they overdid it this time.”

Harry gulped. “Okay,” he said hesitantly. “How long was I out?”

“Five days.”

“Five days? I’ve been asleep for five days?”

“Yep, but now that you’re awake, you can find Ginny.”

Harry’s brows furrowed. “Find Ginny? What’s going on? Where is she?”

“She disappeared the day after you ate that fudge. We suspect that Voldemort has her, but we don’t know where. That’s why we need you to use your ability to sense each other and find her.”

Harry calmed his racing heart and concentrated on the Bond with his wife. After a moment, he felt his heart plummet and he became a little lightheaded.

“Harry, what’s wrong? You’ve gone all pale. Do you need another dose of that potion?” asked Bill.

Harry looked up slowly at Bill, tears streaming down his cheeks. “She’s gone,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course, she’s gone. That’s why we need you to use your Bond and find her.”

“No, Bill. I mean I can’t feel her presence at all.”

Bill’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “But you can always tell where she is. If you can’t feel her, that means … No, it can’t be!”

Harry closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands, sobbing uncontrollably. He felt Bill sit down next to him on the bed and pull him into a hug.

At that moment, Molly entered the room. “Bill, what’s wrong? Is Harry having a side effect from that bloody fudge?”

Bill looked up at his mum, his eyes filled with tears. “No, Mum. Harry can’t feel Ginny’s presence. The only way that would happen is if …” He sniffed, closing his eyes, before he continued. “It means that … Ginny’s dead.”

A/N: My beta Arnel helped me a lot with the description of the Room of Requirement for Harry and Ginny’s Valentine’s date. She did research on the symbolism of flowers for one of her own stories and she shared her findings with me. For those of you who are curious, here is the meaning of the flowers that we used:

lavender--love at first sight red rose- I love you white rose--eternal love pink rose--perfect happiness deep red carnation--deep love and affection

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Chapter 55: Preparations

Author's Notes: Sorry about the delay on posting, especially with the cliffhanger I left you with. As soon as I received the chapter back from my beta Arnel, I had internet issues at the camp I am volunteering at this week, so was unable to do much other than check emails on my phone. Anyway, here it is; I hope it was worth the wait.


Preparations

Ginny tried to open her eyes, but could only see blackness. She used her other senses to discover that she was lying on a camp bed. Where am I? She sat up and thought, Doesn’t really matter. I’ll just check to see if I can Apparate to Harry. She focused on their Bond, but was dismayed to find no trace of him. The panicked feeling from last June threatened to return, but she fought it back. Calm down, Ginny, she told herself. Last time this happened, he wasn’t really dead, so maybe there is another explanation this time, too.

Once her heart stopped racing, she started to formulate a plan. She checked her pockets and found that she did not have her wand, but wasn’t concerned about this, since she was able to do wandless magic fairly easily. She tried to Apparate to the Burrow, but discovered that there were anti-Apparation enchantments active. Okay. Back to my first question; where am I? She could still not see anything, despite being sure that her eyes had had plenty of opportunity to adjust to the darkness. That means that either I am blind or there is absolutely no light here. I know how to deal with both of those issues, though, she thought with a smile. She cast the Bat Ears Charm and scanned her surroundings. Medium sized room, square in shape. The walls are covered by shelves that are filled with boxes and more boxes. Must be some sort of storage room, perhaps a cellar. As she continued to explore, she found two doors on opposite walls. Behind one of the doors was a small bathroom, complete with a shower. The other door was locked, unsurprisingly. She tried Alohomora, Portoberto, and Open Sesame with no success. She did find, however, next to the doorjamb, a light switch.

Closing her eyes, she flipped the switch, and the room was filled with light. She opened her eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the brightness, and then cancelled the Bat Ears Charm. So, this must be a Muggle building, if it has electric lights. Now that she could see, she studied her surroundings more thoroughly. All of the boxes on the shelves were covered by a thick layer of dust. She cast a Scouring Charm, revealing the boxes to contain cans of meat, fruits, and vegetables, and there were also cases of bottled water. There’s enough food down here to last years! At least I won’t starve. On one shelf was a Muggle microwave, and below it was a plastic container of silverware. As she was hungry, she decided to open a can of peaches and one of pears, using a well-aimed Severing Charm to slice off the top, since she couldn’t find a can opener, and ate directly from the cans.

She also discovered on one wall a television and VCR, complete with a collection of video tapes. On the shelf next to the TV was a remote control, so she turned it on as she was eating her dinner, and discovered the news had just started.

“Welcome to BBC News at Ten. It is March 24th, 1999. Tonight, our lead story involves the investigation into the increased terrorist attacks over the last month. No group has claimed responsibility and MI5 is stymied as to who could be performing these assaults.” She clicked the TV off, thinking, I still don’t know where I am, but I do know I was only out for a few hours. Maybe if I backtrack a little, I can find some clues.

Ginny grumbled when her alarm clock started ringing and threw her pillow at it, knocking it off the bedside table. She had already hit the snooze twice, and she knew that she couldn’t delay starting her day any longer. She sat up, looking at the right side of the bed, which was uncharacteristically empty, and glared, wishing the twins were nearby so she could hex them again. Both had received a Bond-enhanced Bat Bogey Hex, among others, last night when she had learned that they had drugged her husband with their latest experiment. And they don’t have any idea how long he will be unconscious, which somehow makes it worse, she thought, casting a weak Reducto at a picture of the twins on the wall, causing the glass to crack into multiple fragments.

She sighed and arose from bed and walked toward her bathroom, waving her hand at the photo, repairing the damage she had done. Maybe a shower will wake me up. She generally did not sleep well when Harry wasn’t there, but last night was worse than usual. Why did I keep having that dream over and over again where I meet Harry in the fog and we agree to “end it” last night? I haven’t dreamt that since a few months after we became a couple. As she let the warm water rinse away her drowsiness, her mind wouldn’t let go of the recurrent dream from the night before. I wonder if this means that the “end” is approaching. Are we ready? Can we actually defeat Tom?

Several minutes later, she found herself trudging down to the Great Hall for breakfast. She dropped herself down onto the bench across from Lydia and Demelza and quietly began eating, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.

“Ginny, what’s wrong?” asked Demelza. “You look horrible. Didn’t you sleep last night?”

“Thanks,” Ginny muttered. “No, I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Why not? Up late revising?” When Ginny shook her head, Demelza leaned across the table and whispered, “Are you missing Harry?”

While Ginny was struggling with how to answer that question, Lydia hissed, “Of course, she misses Harry. I’m surprised she’s functioning as well as she has this year. Just leave her alone. I’m sure she’ll feel better tomorrow or the next day,” Lydia said with a wink. Lydia had been present the night before when Professor McGonagall had told her about Harry’s accidental ingestion of the twin’s product.

“Alright,” said Demelza, dejected. “Sorry to bother you, Ginny. I’m just concerned about you.”

“It’s okay, Demelza. I appreciate that you want to help me, but some days I need a little space.”

Demelza nodded and went back to her breakfast. Ginny mouthed “Thank you” to Lydia before reaching for some scones in the middle of the table.

After breakfast, Lydia and Ginny left the Great Hall together, joining the stream of students heading towards their first lessons, when Lydia asked, “Ginny, how does some flying before dinner sound? It might take you mind off of what is troubling you.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” said Ginny. “I’ll meet you on the Quidditch pitch about five. Have fun with Slughorn,” she said as Lydia turned toward the dungeons and Ginny took the stairs to Muggle Studies.

The rest of the day was uneventful, other than Ginny’s struggle to stay awake during lectures. Fortunately, most of her classes involved practical lessons, so she only fell asleep once.

Fifteen minutes after five, Ginny arrived at the pitch carrying the Firebolt 2C-Harpy Edition that Harry had given her for Christmas. She had a spring in her step, since she had been looking forward to flying all day. As she approached Lydia, who was pacing back and forth, she noticed the younger girl checking her watch. “Sorry I’m late,” said Ginny. “Professor Babbling wanted to go over my last translation after class.”

“That’s okay,” replied Lydia, her eyes darting around, “but we are running out of time.” The pair walked onto the pitch, and, as soon as they passed in front of one of the stands, Ginny saw a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye. When she turned her head, Lydia seemed to be changing, growing taller and her hair darkening and she had her wand pointed directly at Ginny.

Ginny, stunned that Lydia would raise her wand at her, didn’t have a chance to ask the question that was on her lips before a red light was streaking at her. Ginny tried to raise a shield, but her reflexes were slowed by lack of sleep, and the next thing she saw was black.

That must not have been Lydia, thought Ginny as she reviewed her memories. Probably someone under Polyjuice. That would explain why she seemed anxious for me to arrive and was checking her watch; the potion must have worn off just as she was attacking me. Doesn’t help me figure out where I am, or why I can’t sense Harry, but I’m too tired to think right now. Ginny sat back down on the camp bed and gave in to the urge to yawn. Maybe I should just lie down and sleep, she thought. Hopefully things will be clearer in the morning.

She turned on a small desk lamp near the head of the camp bed and turned off the overhead light via the switch by the door. When her head hit the pillow, her fears, no longer held back by her mind’s occupation with exploring her surroundings, returned with a vengeance. What if Harry is dead? What if that really is the reason I can’t feel him? What am I going to do? She rolled over onto her side, facing away from the door and allowed the tears to come.

“Sobbing already? I didn’t expect a Gryffindor to be weeping after just a few hours in captivity, especially with no torture involved,” said a voice behind her.

Ginny turned and sat up quickly, finding herself at wandpoint, but her captor’s face was hidden in the shadows.

“Don’t try anything; I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

A wizard’s voice, so not the person who masqueraded as Lydia. And familiar, someone I know. Ginny did as her captor ordered warily. He then stepped into the light, finally showing his face. “Malfoy. I guess I should have suspected you were behind this.”

“You have been difficult to obtain, but as they say, third time’s the charm,” sneered Malfoy. “Of course, the other two attempts were concocted by wizards with the subtlety of Crabbe and Goyle, so it’s not surprising they failed. I, on the other hand, have been waiting for months for the perfect opportunity to spring this trap.”

“You aren’t going to get away with this, Malfoy. The Order will find me.”

“Oh, I doubt that. You see, your silly Order wouldn’t in a thousand years think of looking for the Dark Lord in a Muggle mansion. My father bought it from a Japanese businessman who made a fortune in electronics. You should have seen the way he bragged about all of the amenities in the house, the surveillance system, the huge television, the latest computers.” Draco laughed. “All of a sudden, it was worthless, as soon as we placed our protective wards around the house. We had to do a lot of work to make habitable for the Dark Lord, but now it is the perfect place for him to stay hidden from the Order. The only room we left alone was this one; for some reason all of the Muggle technology still works here. That mindless Muggle was especially proud of this room. He called it a ‘fall-down shelter’ and went on and on about how thick the walls were and how safe it was. We decided that it would be the perfect place to keep you while you are being prepared for your part in the Dark Lord’s plan for ultimate domination.”

“My part? You think I’m going to help Tom win?” asked Ginny, incredulously.

“Oh, you’ll help, or we’ll make you help,” jeered Malfoy. “That’s not important at the moment, however. For tonight, I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable and to warn you against trying to escape. The only way out is through that door and up the stairs, and, unless you have one of these,” he pulled up the sleeve of his robe to reveal a Dark Mark, “or are accompanied by someone with one, you won’t be able to get through the wards. According to the Dark Lord, the pain you would experience would be worse than the Cruciatus.”

He pivoted and made to leave, but at the door he turned his head and added, “Make sure you get a good night’s rest; I want you to be ready for the beginning of our preparations in the morning.”

Ginny stood up and said, “Wait! What preparations?”

Malfoy laughed, saying, “You’ll just have to wait and see. Good night.” He slammed the door as he left.

Ginny sat back down on the camp bed, reviewing what she had learned from Malfoy, when a grin started to appear on her face. He said that the magic of the wards doesn’t reach down here, so the electronics still work. And he called this place a ‘fall-down shelter.’ She thought back to a Muggle Studies lecture last fall, discussing some safety measures that Muggles took. Harry had laughed through their Bond when the professor had talked about ‘Fall-down shelters,’ correcting that they were actually called ‘fall-out shelters.’ As Harry explained it, these rooms were constructed in such a way that they kept out energy from special bombs. If they can keep out that energy, and they obviously keep out the magic from the wards, they can probably block our Bond, too! That’s why I can’t feel Harry! He must be alive!

She lay down, putting her arms behind her head, a wide smile on her face. Now, I just have to figure out how to get out of this room, and then I can contact Harry. She rolled over and continued to plan. Tom is here, too. I bet that this is the dark building in our dream. This must be where we can end it! As she fell asleep, the dream that had kept waking her up the night before was now a sweet reassurance that they might be nearing the completion of the prophecy.

**********

Ginny was awakened by the sound of the door opening the next morning. She opened her eyes, expecting to see Draco, but instead found that her visitor was a short, dumpy witch in her fifties. Ginny sat up slowly, wary of whom this might be, noticing that she was carrying a tray of potions.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” said the witch pleasantly. “Miss Weasley, I am Gertrude Watkins. I am a St Mungo’s Healer and have been asked to supervise your care over the next few days as you are prepared for …” She paused for a moment, obviously considering what to say next. “Unfortunately, Mr Malfoy has asked me to not to divulge that information yet. But let me assure you, on my Healer’s Oath, that every potion I am giving you and any spell or charm I perform will not harm you in any way. Now, have you had breakfast yet? It is important for you to keep up your health and nutrition over the next several months.”

Ginny instantly liked the woman, but remained suspicious. “Mrs Watkins, if you don’t mind my asking, um–how to ask this–it’s just that you don’t seem like the typical Death Eater …”

Ginny could see the obvious pain on the Healer’s face. “You’re wondering why I’m doing this, working for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.” The older witch closed her eyes and calmed herself. “He kidnapped my granddaughter and me. She’s only five years old. Malfoy says that she will not be hurt if I comply with his orders. They are keeping us together in a room on the third floor and, so far, they have kept their promise.”

“When I get out of here, I will make sure we help you escape also.”

“We?” asked Mrs Watkins, her eyebrow raised.

“Er,” she hesitated. “There is a secret group of people who are fighting against the Death Eaters,” she explained, covering her slip. “That’s who I meant by ‘we.’”

“No, please don't try to rescue us. They have promised that we will be safe if I comply with their orders,” Mrs Watkins replied, obviously frightened about something. She shifted tone quickly and took on a more clinical manner. “Now, you need to eat some breakfast before I proceed. Mr Malfoy assured me that you would be able to find something here to eat.”

Ginny opened some more cans of fruit and ate quickly. When she had finished, Mrs Watkins asked her to lie down on the camp bed so that she could cast some diagnostic spells. As she waved her wand over Ginny’s body, she said, “Good, you seem to be in good health overall, so we can start right away.” As her wand passed over Ginny’s abdomen one more time, the Healer’s eyes widened. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to be on contraceptive potions. Are you taking the monthly or annual dosage?”

Ginny blanched. “The annual,” she said sheepishly.

“May I ask why you took the contraceptive potion? Mr Malfoy gave me the impression that you would not be sexually active. Is he wrong?”

Ginny knew she was stuck, but searched around for a reasonable explanation, trying to cover her thinking by acting embarrassed. “You are probably aware that I was engaged to Harry Potter. The Daily Prophet reported that widely. We were to be married last summer,” she fibbed. “I took the dose of the potion last spring in preparation for the wedding night.” She dropped her eyes, willing some tears to fall, trying to convince the Healer of her story. After a few moments, she blinked away the tears and regained her composure, she asked, “Why is that important?”

“Oh, you poor dear,” said the Healer, as she held and squeezed her hands. “While we were all distressed by Mr Potter’s death, it’s easy for us to forget how deeply it must have affected you. I am truly sorry for your loss.” Mrs Watkins patted Ginny’s hand one more time and the Healer sat back upright. “As to the contraceptive potion, it’s just something I need to know. I am going to have to give you an additional potion to counteract the one you took. The contraceptive potion will interact with some of the others I am going to give you.” She rose from her seat and went to the door, knocking on it. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with that extra potion.” A moment later, the door swung open and she disappeared up the stairs.

What does Tom have planned for me? she thought while the Healer was gone.

When Mrs Watkins returned with a vial of purple liquid, Ginny asked, “Mr Malfoy said that you had to have the Death Mark to leave this room. You don’t have one, do you?”

“No,” reassured Mrs Watkins. “A Death Eater is stationed on the stairs waiting for me to knock. I can leave because he accompanies me. Now, drink this up.”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed, eying the vial suspiciously. "Remember what I said earlier," reassured Mrs Watkins. "Nothing I am going to give you will harm you in any way.” Her head dropped and she added quietly, “I just wish that were true of Mr Malfoy as well.”

Ginny continued to hesitate, but the Healer pleaded, “Please, Miss Weasley. Mr Malfoy has given the Death Eater on the stairs permission to torture you if you refuse to take the potions. And if that doesn’t work, they are going to bring my Emily down here and torture her in front of you.” Tears pooled in the corners of Mrs Watkins’ eyes and threatened to spill over. She sniffed, “Please, I don’t want to have to watch either of you under the Cruciatus.”

Ginny knew that she couldn’t have the torture of a five-year-old on her conscience, so she drank the potion as requested. Mrs Watkins gave her three more potions to take and then said, “Make sure you eat well the rest of the day. I’ll be back again in the morning.”

After the Healer left, rejuvenated by a good night’s sleep and breakfast and feeling no ill effects from the potions, Ginny spent much of her day plotting her escape. The quicker I get out of here, the better the chance I can get back to Harry before the potion in Fred and George’s fudge wears off. If there is any way I can prevent him from thinking I’m dead, I’m going to try it. After formulating a plan, she took a long nap in the afternoon so that she would be wide awake in the wee hours of the morning, figuring that the middle of the night would be the best time to break out.

At two o’clock that night, she arose from her camp bed and crept over to the door. She performed a diagnostic spell on the door, finding two wards that she knew how to cancel, but several others that she was unfamiliar with. The ones that protected the door from damage were easily removed, but the ones that bonded the door and the doorjamb did not respond to any of her attempts to eradicate them.

I could probably destroy the door, but not without creating a lot of noise, which would bring the Death Eaters running. However, if I use the spell Professor McGonagall taught us after our staged battle last month … Ginny used her finger to outline on the door a rectangle large enough for her to slip through, and then said, “Commeabilis. ” The area she had drawn gradually faded, but didn’t totally disappear, almost looking like a ghost of the door was still present. She Disillusioned herself and reached her hand through the barrier cautiously. It felt like she was pushing against a rubbery membrane for a moment before her hand popped through to the other side. Smiling at her success, she pushed the rest of her body through the barrier. Once she was on the other side of the door, she cancelled the spell, not wanting to reveal her method of escape. She used the Bat Ears Charm again to allow her to ‘see’ the stairway. She then cast another diagnostic spell and found the wards that Draco had mentioned at the top of the stairs. Again, she attempted to break the wards, but was unable to weaken it even a little. Not willing to risk the pain that Draco said would occur if she attempted to go through the wards without a Death Eater chaperone, she went back down the stairs and repeated the Commeabilis charm to allow her to return to her prison.

Dejectedly, she plopped down on her camp bed and tried to think of a way to get through the Dark Mark ward. I don’t want to use the Imperius Curse, but if I have to, I will, she vowed. But is there another way? This was her thought as she fell asleep on her second night of captivity.

**********

The next few days were pretty much carbon copies of the first day; Mrs Watkins would come each morning with a tray of vials, which Ginny would drink, and Mrs Watkins continued to dodge any questions as to their purpose. Ginny, surprisingly, did not feel any different from the potions. Her days were spent watching the television or napping, as there wasn’t much else to do. Her concern for Harry grew with each day she was imprisoned, however, knowing that the longer she was here, the more likely he would awake from the twins’ fudge and sense that she wasn’t there. I hope he doesn’t overreact, she thought. I can’t stand to think of him going through the same pain I felt last summer when I thought he was dead.

On her fourth morning in captivity, after taking the potions from Mrs Watkins, the older witch grabbed Ginny into a hug and wouldn’t let go. Sensing that she was crying, Ginny asked, “What’s wrong, Mrs Watkins?”

“Oh, my dear child, I’m so sorry,” was all the Healer could say between sobs.

Ginny pulled back and looked her in the eye. “What are you sorry for? You’ve treated me very well, and I feel fine,” she said with a smile.

The Healer sniffed and said, “I just wish I could shield you from what’s going to happen tonight.” Ginny looked at her in confusion. “I promise that I will be back tomorrow morning to help you.” She let go of Ginny and walked quickly to the door.

“Wait, Mrs Watkins! What are you talking about?”

A look of pity appeared on the Healer’s face and she just shook her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry. They’ll hurt Emily if I say anything.” She turned and knocked on the door. While she was waiting for the Death Eater, she looked back and said, “Merlin be with you, sweet girl.” Ginny could see the tears in Mrs Watkins eyes as the door opened and she left.

Ginny was left alone in the room, wondering, What did she mean? What are they going to do that is so horrible that it could affect her like that?

**********

“Tell me what happened,” Harry said after he had regained some of his composure. “How did they take her?”

Professor McGonagall and Ron had arrived via the Floo in response to calls from Molly. Cat had been put to bed, so the five were gathered in the sitting room in Shell Cottage. “When I returned from Quidditch practice,” explained Ron, “I found you on the floor of the kitchen. I attempted Rennervate a few times before I saw the twins’ fudge on the table. Bloody twins and their products! I thought. They had just been telling me the day before about their newest formulation. I decided that it would be best for you to recover here, so I contacted Bill and we brought you back here. Ginny was livid when she learned, as you can imagine, and, after assuring herself that you were okay, went after them.” He chuckled for a moment and continued, “The twins still won’t tell us what she did to them.”

“As far as we know, the next day’s lessons went as usual,” said the Headmistress as she took up the story. “When Ginny didn’t show up for dinner, we started looking for her. Miss Robins said that she overheard heard Miss Forest ask Ginny if she wanted to go out for a fly after classes. Miss Robins heard Miss Forest say something about it taking her mind off of her troubles, but she didn’t know what that meant. Of course, in retrospect we know that she was trying to get Ginny to stop worrying about you. Miss Forest wasn’t at dinner either. We checked the Quidditch Pitch, and found two brooms, but no witches.

“Not finding her anywhere in the castle, I contacted Bill via the Floo to see if Ginny had come here to see you again. The twins had stopped by to check on you and they suggested that I use a special map that was probably hidden in her trunk, telling me the password to activate it. I was very surprised to learn that she had something from the Marauders, but was even more intrigued by what the map showed. I was unable to find Ginny anywhere on the map, but I did locate Miss Forest. She had been Stunned and stuffed in a broom cupboard. When I revived her, Miss Forest said that she was heading back to the common room after lessons when everything went black. She doesn’t remember anything else until being revived outside of the cupboard.”

“We are guessing that someone else overheard Lydia and Ginny’s conversation about flying and used Polyjuice to impersonate Lydia,” explained Bill. “She waited for Ginny at the Quidditch Pitch, and must have surprised her, Stunned her, and taken her off the grounds via a Portkey. There were traces of Portkey magic at the scene, but no clues where they went.”

“Astoria Greengrass, a sixth year Slytherin student, is also missing,” said Professor McGonagall. “There have been rumours that she had a clandestine relationship with Mr Malfoy before he left the school. We have surmised that Ginny must be at Voldemort’s secret hideout with Mr Malfoy.”

Before Harry had a chance to react to what he learned, there was a small pop in the room. They all turned to see a house-elf wearing a Hogwarts tea towel. “Mistress McGonagall! You must return to Hogwarts immediately! Master Snape says that the bad men are going to attack the castle!”

**********

Ginny had fallen asleep watching an old movie on the television when she was awoken by the door opening. She sat up quickly as Draco walked into the room. Instantly wary, she became even more suspicious when she noted the arrogant smirk on his face.

“Well, Weasley, the Healer says she has completed preparing you. Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” asked Ginny, her eyes glaring at her captor.

“Helping to bring about the rise of the next Dark Lord, of course.”

“What in Merlin’s name are you talking about, Malfoy? Why would you ever think I would do any such thing?”

“It’s not like you are going to have a choice.” He waved his wand suddenly and Ginny found herself lying flat on her back on the camp bed, her extremities tied to its corners. She struggled against the ropes, but she was bound tightly. Another wave of his wand and her Quidditch robes and clothes were Vanished, leaving her in just her bra and knickers. Draco’s eyes travelled up and down her body as he said, “I think I’m going to enjoy this.”

Ginny, realizing what he had planned, tried to think of anything to delay him. “How is raping me going to, I believe you said, ‘Bring about the rise of the next Dark Lord’?” she asked.

Draco laughed. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t know about the prophecy.”

Ginny suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Not another bloody prophecy! “What prophecy?” she asked after she took a deep breath.

“It seems that while Trelawney is totally worthless when it comes to Divination, she has a cousin who really does have the Sight. I guess blood did come out in her case, since their great-great-grandmother was one of the greatest Seers of all time. She’s been in hiding for most of her life, and it was well-known that she had left the country. About two years ago, when Avery was in America looking for Potter, he also found, well, tripped over, a fortune teller working in a Muggle carnival. Apparently one of the possible Potter look-a-likes visited this carnival while Avery was following him and Avery detected some very strong magic coming from a specific tent. When he went into the tent, he had her do a reading. She predicted that he was very close to finding what he was looking for, which turned out correct since he saw the real Potter’s picture in the newspaper a few days later. Anyway, he was leaving the tent when he heard her collapse, and he turned back, just in time to hear her give a prophecy.

Anon is the time for the rise of the next great wizard. His mother will be the youngest of seven, the first one born fair in seven generations. His father will be fatherless, the only heir to an ancient and powerful line. Anon is the time for the rise of the next great wizard.

“When he heard it, the Dark Lord instantly knew who the mother must be: you. It is well-known that you are the seventh Weasley offspring, the first girl, or ‘first one born fair,’ in seven generations. He initially thought that he would be the father, but he learned that, let’s just say, he is unable to fulfil the prophecy at this time. So, he arranged for me to be his proxy. The Malfoy family line certainly meets the ‘ancient and powerful’ requirement, but, alas, I was not fatherless, at least not until the Dark Lord killed my father so I could satisfy all the requirements. At first, I was angry that he killed my father, but now that I see how important my role is, I am more than happy to serve my Lord in this way.” He stared at Ginny’s body again, and added, “Oh, yes, more than happy.

“The Healer has been giving you potions to ensure your fertility; she has guaranteed me that it will only take once, and you will conceive, and it will be a boy. You will be kept here until you bear my son, and then you will be disposed of. Then, ‘the next great wizard’ will be raised by my Dark Lord to be his successor.”

It took all of Ginny’s courage to maintain calm during Malfoy’s explanation, and her mind was working relentlessly, trying to think of a way to escape from this seemingly inevitable suffering. As she was thinking, Malfoy bent over and caressed her cheek and then whispered in her ear, “Are you going to make this easy, or hard?”

His hand travelled down her face, to her neck, to her collar bone, and down her chest. His fingers were just reaching the edge of her bra when she said, “Wait!”

Draco pulled back his hand and replied, “Why should I?”

Ginny, remembering how she had acted with Michael in the Hogs Head, tried a similar ploy with Malfoy. She called up some fake tears and said, “It’s just that … um, I don’t want my … first time to be on a camp bed in a dungeon. Isn’t there somewhere else we could go in the house that would be … more comfortable? I promise that I will make it worth your while.” She smirked and raised an eyebrow. “It wouldn’t have to be just once.”

Draco smiled lasciviously at her. “Alright. I know the perfect place.” He stood up and pointed his wand at the ropes at her wrists and ankles, releasing her. He then conjured robes for her to wear. “Let’s go,” he said as he grabbed her elbow. They went through the door and up the stairs with her in the front and him one step behind. Before they reached the top step, he said, “Wait. We must go through the ward together, or you will suffer the pain.” She moved over so that they could both stand on the same step. “When I say go, step up at the same time as me. Ready? Go.” They stepped in unison and Ginny felt the ward slip past her body. Draco then opened the door to the main floor and they stepped into a Muggle kitchen.

As soon as Ginny entered the room, she was flooded with senses from Harry through their Bond. She quickly sent a thought to Harry. Harry! No time to explain, but Apparate to about a half mile from me and wait for me. I’m fine. Just do it!

It was hard to hide the emotions she was receiving from Harry from her face, but she knew she had to concentrate to make this plan work. She looked around as Draco led her from the kitchen into a sitting room, and then to some stairs with ornate wooden bannisters. “Are we alone?” asked Ginny. “I expected other Death Eaters to be here.”

“Usually there are, but tonight the Dark Lord is leading an assault on Hogwarts. He decided that he liked the symbolism of two great victories on the same night, so planned the attack to coincide with his plans for us. So, we have the whole house to ourselves tonight. We may even visit more than one room, if you would like.”

They reached the top of the stairs and he said, “The first door on the left has the plushest bed. It’s the Dark Lord’s, but he doesn’t need to know we used it. Here, allow me,” he said as he opened the door for her. Ginny took a few steps into the room and turned to face him. She smirked at him and then reached for the closures on the front of her robe, opening the top one slowly. Draco watched her closely, laying his wand down on a side table, the smile growing on his face.

As soon as he put his wand down, Ginny’s hands flew out and she yelled, “Stupefy! ” Before he could react, Draco dropped to the floor, unconscious. She walked over to him and kicked him in the groin. “That’s for what you planned to do to me.” She knew he couldn’t feel it now, but he would later. She bound him in ropes and levitated his body to another room, leaving him in a cupboard. She went out into the corridor and reached out through the Bond, sensing Harry waiting patiently as he had been told. The next moment, with a pop, she was gone.

**********

Harry, in the Indian glamours he had planned to use the night he had accidentally consumed the twins’ fudge, was standing the Entry Hall with Professor McGonagall, the faculty, the Order, and a few of-age students, prepared to face the Death Eater onslaught. Before leaving Shell Cottage, Harry had stuffed his Invisibility Cloak and shrunken broom in his Mokeskin pouch that he wore around his neck. Hagrid had planned on giving it to Harry on his eighteenth birthday, but had passed it on to Ginny when she had returned to school in September.

He and the Headmistress had then returned to Hogwarts with the house-elf messenger, while the Weasleys had spread the news to the Order. An evacuation of the students had been already started by Professor Flitwick by the time the Headmistress had arrived back at the school. It had not taken long before a small squadron of warriors for the Light had been gathered to repel the Death Eaters. Professor McGonagall held the Marauder’s Map and was watching the approach of the enemy. The dot named Tom Riddle, leading the group of attackers, stopped when it neared the gate.

At that moment, they all heard a loud voice declare, “Students and faculty of Hogwarts! Lord Voldemort has arrived to take his proper place as Headmaster of this auspicious school of magical education. To save much bloodshed, especially those of the students, I demand that the faculty peaceably surrender and allow my followers to enter so that the transition can be as smooth as possible. If you do not agree to this, I cannot promise the safety of any who currently inhabit the castle. I give you fifteen minutes to make your decision.”

A Patronus in the shape of a flying squirrel zoomed into the Entry Hall and stopped in front of Professor McGonagall. The obviously frightened voice of Professor Sinistra came from the Patronus, saying, “Minerva, there are hundreds of Death Eaters, dozens of trolls, and about ten giants at our gates. We don’t stand a chance against them.”

Harry looked over Professor McGonagall’s shoulder at the Map and pointed. “The Map only shows about twenty Death Eaters, and no trolls or giants. I would wager that Tom is using some sort of spell to trick us into thinking that his forces are much greater in numbers than they are.”

“Can we trust the Map? Are you sure it can detect trolls and giants?”

Remus, who had been listening in on the conversation, said, “I know we can trust it,” a smirk on his face. “It is charmed to detect any being, including trolls, giants, centaurs, goblins, house-elves, hags, vampires, and even ghosts. If it says there are only twenty people out there, it is right.”

McGonagall blinked and considered this for a moment. She tapped her throat with her wand and said, “Sonorus. It seems that Voldemort is using an illusion to make his attacking force appear much greater than it is. For those of you who know the Bat Ears Charm, I would recommend you use it, and teach your companions who aren’t familiar with it how to perform it. With this charm, you should be able to differentiate a real enemy from an illusion. We only have a few minutes, so do it quickly.

Quietus. ” She turned to Hermione and said, “Thank you, Miss Granger for finding that charm; it has been very useful of late.”

Hermione blushed at her former professor’s praise. Harry was going to add a comment when, suddenly, he was hit with a barrage of sensations, causing him to stumble.

Hermione grabbed his elbow to steady him and said concernedly, “Are you alright, Harry?”

When he lifted his face to her, his smile stretched from ear to ear. “It’s Ginny! She’s alive! I can feel her again!”

“What?” “How?” “Really?” “Where is she?” Questions came at Harry from every direction, since every Weasley happened to be within hearing range of his announcement.

Harry held up his hand and said, “Please, quiet. She’s trying to give me a message.” Everyone complied and a few seconds later, he said, “Professor McGonagall, she wants me to come to her. I hate to leave you in the lurch here, but I really need to listen to her.” He smirked as he added, “She was quite insistent.”

“I understand. I think we have plenty of people here to handle this. Go to her.”

A moment later, Harry was gone, leaving Professor McGonagall surrounded by a crowd of very confused witches and wizards, having just seen someone who no one recognized Disapparate from Hogwarts.

**********

Brook was struck by the feeling of déjà vu when he found himself standing in the middle of a fog bank. The fog was so thick he could hardly see a thing just like he had dreamt so many times. He didn’t know where he was, but, unlike in his dream, he knew exactly whom he was waiting for and why his heart was pounding in his chest. He heard a pop to his right and turned quickly toward the sound. Out of the fog appeared Ginny, her hair shimmering in the moonlight. Her face was bright with the smile that just an hour ago that he thought he would never see again. She walked up to him as he stood just staring at her, amazed yet again at her beauty. She took his hand and he felt the familiar spark of energy pass between them. As soon as their hands touched, she pulled him into a hug and kissed him for just a few seconds. Well, that’s different, thought Harry, but appreciating the change from the dream. “Ready? Let’s end this, together!” she said and they started walking into the fog hand in hand.

Back to index


Chapter 56: Leaping Lizards!

Leaping Lizards!

“Ready? Let’s end this, together!” she said and they started walking into the fog hand in hand. As they walked toward the building that he knew would appear out of the fog, Ginny shared through their Bond the events of the past few days. When he learned what Malfoy had planned for her, his anger grew until she felt a gentle mental caress that calmed him. He struggled not to laugh when she told him about her revenge for Malfoy’s actions.

I think I would have used Diffindo on his bits had it been me.

Oh, I thought about it, but the kick was so much more satisfying, she thought, grinning at him.

As they came to the massive wooden door, they were not surprised that it opened on its own, since they had both seen it so many times in their dreams. Inside the entryway, Harry waved his hand, and the sconces on the wall lit, bathing the room in eerie light. The first thing we need to do is to find your wand; we need to be ready when Tom returns, thought Harry. “Accio Ginny’s wand,” he said, and they heard a crash in a room to their left. Her wand was flying toward them and before Harry could catch it, Ginny reached up and plucked it out of the air. You’re not the only talented Seeker here, she thought with a smirk. They peered into the room from where her wand had come and saw a desk that had a hole where a drawer had been and pieces of shattered wood lying on the floor in front of it.

Now, we need to find Mrs Watkins and Emily, thought Ginny. She told me that they kept the two of them in a large sitting room on the third floor. They climbed the stairs and walked down the corridor, checking the rooms as they went. At the end of the hallway, they discovered two panelled doors. They could see light escaping underneath the doors and guessed that this might be the place.

After checking the door for wards and traps and finding none, Ginny knocked, calling out, “Mrs Watkins, are you in there?”

“Ginny!” the Healer replied. “Yes, we’re in here, but don’t open the door; it will release the …”

But Ginny already had her hand on the knob and had started pushing the door inward before she could heed Mrs Watkins warning. She stopped for a moment, but when nothing happened, she proceeded into the room. It was indeed a large room, with approximately twelve-foot ceilings, multiple seating arrangements, and a fireplace that was large enough for Hagrid to use as a Floo. The fireplace had a roaring fire in it, which was providing the only light for the room. To their left was a four-poster bed with a canopy, which looked a little out of place with the rest of the furniture. However, what really surprised the couple was that Mrs Watkins wasn’t looking at them but staring into the darkness with a look of sheer terror while keeping her cowering granddaughter behind her back.

Harry and Ginny looked in the direction of Mrs Watkins gaze, but couldn’t see anything in the darkness. They did hear a low growl however. What do you think it is? asked Ginny.

I don’t know, but we better be ready for anything, replied Harry, pointing his wand into the blackness and assuming a defensive stance. Ginny mirrored him just to his left. A moment later, a jet of fire shot at the pair, requiring them to dive to avoid being struck by the flames. The flame hit an upholstered chair behind them, which was engulfed in flames, providing more light in the room.

Harry rolled out of his dive and landed on his feet, gazing into the shadows from which the flame had come. The first thing he saw was a massive green leg with a three-toed foot stepping out into the light, a sharp claw at the end of each toe. When the foot hit the floor, a small tremor shook the room. As the other leg stepped out of the darkness, Harry for the first time could see rest of the creature that caused the fear on Mrs Watkins’ face.

All Harry could think was it was a monster out of the movie Jurassic Park. It resembled a dinosaur, walking on its two hind legs, its head just a few feet below the ceiling. Its forelegs, tucked against its torso, looked stronger than the small arms on a Tyrannosaurus Rex, and each one had a claw at its tip. It took one more step toward Harry and roared, revealing a mouth lined with sharp teeth, each at least three inches long.

What the hell is that? asked Harry.

A wyvern, responded Ginny. Harry could feel her fear through their Bond. It’s a relative of a dragon, smaller, but more vicious. Charlie said that they can’t even keep them at the Dragon Preserve. They attack the larger dragons and, inevitably, one or the other is killed.

As Harry was studying the creature for a weakness, he saw its massive tail whip toward him. He dropped to the ground and he saw the tail, which was studded with green-tinged spikes, pass over his head and smash into a sideboard, destroying it.

Whatever you do, avoid that tail; it’s poisonous! warned Ginny. That’s what they kill the dragons with.

Believe me, I was planning on it. You protect Mrs Watkins and Emily while I try to keep it occupied. He jumped up and cast a Blasting Curse at its underbelly, but it had no effect, other than evincing a roar and another jet of flame aimed in Harry’s direction. He cast a Shield Charm to block the flames and then dropped it to try a Cutting Curse. The Curse bounced off the wyvern’s neck and hit the wall, where it gouged a large hole in the woodwork. He tried a Bludgeoning Hex and Confringo with the same results. Desperate, he cast Sectumsempra, a Dark spell that he had learned from Remus that inflicted deep slashes that would not respond to usual healing spells, but nothing seemed to damage the creature; however, the spells did seem to anger it.

How do we fight this thing? asked Harry as he continued to fire curses at it.

I don’t know, Ginny thought as she cast Aqua Erecto to put out several fires in the room. Their hide is just as thick as a dragon’s, so it is impervious to most spells. Casting the Conjunctivitis Curse at its eyes might work. Charlie says that’s the only spell that works on dragons.

He aimed several Conjunctivitis spells at the wyvern, but the creature seemed to anticipate this and was able to move its head so that the spells struck other parts of its face and not its eyes.

I can’t hit its eyes. We need to get it out of here before it hurts Mrs Watkins or Emily. Any ideas?

Yes! Harry could almost see the light bulb that signified Ginny’s sudden idea. “Mrs Watson and Emily, get behind the bed and cover your head!” Harry, get your broom out and cancel the Shrinking Charm on it. She pointed her wand at the exterior wall and yelled, “Reducto! ” The wall exploded, sending pieces of wood and plaster everywhere. When the dust settled, most of the wall was gone.

Now, Harry! Keep it angry at you and then fly on your broom out of here! Hopefully, it will be mad enough to follow you.

Harry shot two Bludgeoning Curses at the wyvern and took off running toward the opening, his broom in his left hand. When he reached the former wall, he dove out into the darkness, mounting his broom before he hit the ground. He circled around and saw the wyvern standing at the edge of demolished room. Harry hit its head with a Blasting Curse, causing it to roar at him again. “Come on, Godzilla, come after me!” shouted Harry at the monster as he aimed another Bludgeoning Hex at it. The enraged creature swung its head, and extended its forelegs, revealing huge wings that were at least twenty-feet across. It crouched slightly before launching itself into the air, its wings beating hard to keep it aloft.

Harry gulped and turned his broom quickly and flew away from the house. You didn’t tell me it could fly!

Of course it can fly; all dragons can.

How am I supposed to know that? Harry replied as he dodged a fire jet from the wyvern.

What was the next step in this brilliant plan of yours, Mrs Potter?

I don’t know. I didn’t think that far ahead. I suggest you fly, and fly fast!

Harry did exactly that. He pushed his Firebolt to its maximum speed, but, when he looked back, he could see that the wyvern was closing on him. Not wanting to get too far from the house, he performed a U-turn, and flew past the monster, sending a Cutting Hex at a wing as he passed it.

Showing amazing manoeuvrability, the wyvern changed direction quickly and was on Harry’s broomtail in just a few seconds. Harry looked back and saw another spray of fire approaching his broom. He pulled back on his handle as hard as he could, flying almost straight up into the air, narrowly avoiding the flames. He continued to pull back on his broom, causing him to perform an inverted loop. When he levelled off, he was directly behind the creature. Always wanted to try that trick of Maverick’s, he thought with a smirk on his face.

The wyvern was obviously searching for Harry, but he stayed right behind its tail, allowing Harry a chance to catch his breath and formulate his next move. The creature’s confusion only lasted about thirty seconds when it craned its neck around enough to catch sight of Harry. As soon as he knew he was spotted Harry dove toward a forest he had spotted. However, the wyvern swung around quicker than Harry thought possible, and he had to evade its wing as it went by. Unfortunately, he didn’t dodge quickly enough and the tip of its claw ripped open a gash in his side.

Harry suppressed the urge to shout from the pain as he sped toward his target. It’s bigger than I am; hopefully I can lose it in amongst the trees. When he reached the edge of the woods, he swerved around the trunks and branches, trying to maintain as much speed as he could. He was encouraged when he heard a crash behind him, but then he realized that the noise continued and seemed to be edging closer to him. When he came to a small clearing, he risked a glance backwards and saw that, instead of causing the beast to slow down, the wyvern was actually just smashing through the trees as if they were twigs. So much for that idea, he thought as he swerved to avoid another spray of fire from the creature.

As he darted around another tree trunk, he felt that his shirt was becoming soaked with his blood. I need to stop soon so that I can heal this wound. He pulled back on his broom handle to bring it just above the top of the trees and then leaned down, pushing his broom as fast as it could go. But, no matter how fast he went, he could still hear the flapping of his pursuer closing in on him. Quick turns don’t work; maybe a Wronski Feint will. He gained more altitude for a few moments and then pointed his broom almost straight down, building up even more speed. A few feet from the ground, he pulled up, hoping that the wyvern would eat some dirt. Unfortunately, the beast flared out its wings and it stopped just feet above the ground. However, its huge tail continued forward and whipped toward Harry. He tried to avoid it, but couldn’t and he was thrown off his broom, tumbling onto the ground and losing his wand in the process.

When he righted himself, he looked up and saw the wyvern flying at him, extending its talons to grab him. Desperate, he looked around for something to shield himself with, but only found a tree branch broken off in his flight from the creature. He quickly picked it up, transfiguring it into a sturdy lance, and pointed it at the beast. The wyvern had too much speed built up to stop and it impaled itself on the lance, letting out an eerie screech as the lance dug even further into its body. Harry held on with all his strength as the creature dropped to the ground just feet in front of him, writhing on the lance as it died.

Harry let go of the lance and gasped for air as he regained his breath and tried to calm his heart. When he had recovered some strength, he pulled up his shirt to examine his side. Are you alright? asked Ginny through their Bond. I just received a strong sensation of relief.

Yeah, I’m okay; just a scratch that I can heal. He Summoned his wand and waved it over his side as he said, “Vulnera Sanentur” three times and the wound knitted together.

Can you Apparate to me? asked Ginny.

Give me a few moments to recover. I don’t want to Splinch myself. Did you get the Watkins out of the house?

Yes. I took them far enough away from the house so that Mrs Watkins could Apparate. They’re a little stunned with the events of the day. The wyvern was kept in a cage in the corner of the room and there was a magical trip wire spell on the door. If anyone opened the door without cancelling the spell, it opened the cage, releasing the monster.

As she talked with Harry, Ginny walked in the front door of the house and went to the large dining room, which had picture windows that overlooked the woods. She could see a few small fires and some trees knocked down, but could not see any sign of Harry.

It looks like you really made a mess out there. You better put out those fires before you come back.

Will do. I think I’m ready to get up now.

Behind her, Ginny heard a creak from the floor. She whirled around, her wand out. She gasped as she saw a tall, almost skeletal man with pale skin and snake-like features.

“Greetings, Ginevra,” said Voldemort.

Back to index


Chapter 57: Obcidione Caedo

Author's Notes: Sorry about the long delay, but real life intervened, so I had a hard time finding time to write. I also struggled with some writer's block, but, thanks again to Arnel's fabulous beta work, I finally have a product with which I am happy.
You may recognize some of the dialogue from Chapter 36 of Deathly Hallows


Obcidione Caedo

Harry stood up and Summoned his broomstick, shrinking it and putting it back in his Mokeskin pouch. He rummaged around in the pouch, ensuring that the two other objects were still safe, his Invisibility Cloak and the Serpent Staff. He took a deep breath and surveyed the many small fires that the wyvern had started in its pursuit of him. I guess I should get started on putting out these fires, he thought when he felt a sudden pang of fear from Ginny.

Listening in, he learned that Tom had arrived. Looks like the fires will have to wait. He sent a soothing touch to Ginny to encourage her, smiling when he felt her fear subside a bit. We’ll do this together, he thought as he pulled out his Cloak. He donned it before Apparating to the lawn behind the manor to assist Ginny in what he hoped would be the final battle.

***********

Ginny’s heart began to race when she felt a comforting touch to her mind. Keep calm! I’ll be there in a moment.

That’s easier said than done, she replied, while trying to do what Harry asked. He’s not standing right in front of you.

You can do this. Try to relax; just remember the plan.

Ginny took a deep breath and recited the plan that the couple had agreed upon to herself as she studied their adversary. She was to duel him, hopefully tiring him enough, so that when Harry revealed himself, the couple could incapacitate him long enough to cast Aufero Malum. The major downside to the spell was that it took time to build up and thus could not be used in the heat of battle.

Ginny eyed her opponent. Voldemort’s robes showed signs of his recent battle and he seemed a little weary from his attack on Hogwarts; his face was a little more pale than usual, which could only assist their strategy. “Things didn’t go so well at Hogwarts?” she asked cheekily.

Voldemort’s face betrayed a twitch of anger before it became placid again. “No, they didn’t. And it seems that my plans have been thwarted here as well. I would hazard a guess that Malfoy was not successful in his task.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Ginny spat back at him. “I’m surprised you trusted him enough to do something like that on his own.”

“I won’t make that mistake again.” He smiled evilly, causing chills to travel down her spine. “I think that your punishment might help in that.”

“My punishment?”

“I can’t exactly allow your escape to have no consequences, can I? I imagine that several minutes of the Cruciatus should suffice to teach you to be more compliant. If it affects your mind adversely, so be it. After all, I only need your body for my plans, not your mind.”

Ginny felt her anger build as she was reminded of the attempted rape that Voldemort had ordered. Voldemort raised his wand and started the incantation and Ginny jumped into action. You have to hit me first, you bastard! she thought as she dove out of the way. The curse hit a chair that had been behind her, causing it to explode into pieces. She rolled agilely back to her feet and shouted, “Expulso! ” aiming directly at his chest.

Voldemort just calmly flicked his wand and the burst of blue light changed trajectory, hitting the wall to his right. He looked over at the hole in the wall and said, “My, my, Ginevra. I can’t have you destroying my home, now can I? Stupefy!

Ginny cast the Shield Charm this time, and as soon as Voldemort’s spell bounced off her shield, she sent a barrage of spells at her opponent. He continued to lackadaisically wave off all of her spells, and then took a step toward her. “Impressive array of spells, my Ginevra; almost as impressive as your brother. It was a shame he had to die.”

Ginny hesitated, stunned by the news, wondering which brother he meant. Voldemort seemed to read her mind as he answered her unasked question. “If a talented curse-breaker couldn’t defeat me, what makes you think a silly little school girl can? I am the greatest wizard in the world.”

Ginny fought back tears as she continued her attack, quelling the wavering in her voice as she cast the spells. As she battled, she heard Harry’s reassuring voice in her head, Don’t listen to him. Remember the plan; all you need to do is tire him out. I am starting to see some cracks in his shields. Keep it up; I think it’s working!

Encouraged by Harry, she put thoughts of her family out of her mind, kept bombarding Voldemort with spell after spell, but was surprised with his tactics. Why isn’t he fighting back? she queried Harry through their Bond. He isn’t using any spells stronger than Stunners or Disarming Charms.

He doesn’t want to harm you any more than necessary. Remember he needs you for ‘breeding stock’.

Ginny’s resentment grew again. What is his plan, then?

I am guessing that he wants to do the exact same thing you are trying to do to him: tire you out and then subdue you.

She dove to avoid another spell, but she could tell that her reactions were slowing. I don’t know if I can do it, Harry. He almost hit me that time. She was back on her feet in a moment and sent two Blasting Hexes followed by a Severing Charm. Voldemort hissed as the last spell penetrated his defences.

You hit him that time, Gin! I see some blood on his right arm. You can do this. He’s tiring too.

Ginny cast a Shield Charm to give her a moment to wipe some sweat off her brow and take one deep breath before attacking again. She yelled “Confringo! ” aiming at the floor in front of Tom’s feet, and thus in front of his shield. The force of the explosion blew a five-foot wide hole in the floor, and threw Voldemort backwards, causing him to land ungracefully on his bum.

Surprisingly, Tom chuckled as he stood up. “Well done, my Ginevra; I can’t remember the last time I was knocked down in a duel. Are you sure you won’t consider joining me and be a Death Eater? I’d let you help rear your son. You could take your proper place beside me. You are mine, after all.”

“I’ve never been yours, Tom,” she growled back as she sent two more Severing Charms at him.

“Oh, I beg to differ. You’ve been mine since you first wrote to me in my diary. Yes, my original plan was to take your life so that I could regain a body, but now I realize how much more valuable you could be with me. Come, my Ginevra, seize your destiny. Give me your heart once again.”

“My heart is taken!” she roared and she attacked with new intensity.

***********

Harry, who was crouched in the corner of the room under his Cloak, couldn’t help the pride he felt for his wife grow. At first, it had been difficult for him to just stand by while she was battling Voldemort, but his role was to stand ready in case Voldemort cast anything that Ginny couldn’t handle herself. He smiled as he saw Voldemort take a step back under Ginny’s onslaught. Tom was sending fewer and fewer offensive spells and had to focus more on his defences. Harry kept his focus on Voldemort and noticed, for the first time, a look of anxiety appear on his face. You’re doing it, Ginny! He’s weakening! Voldemort took another step back and Harry saw a bead of sweat trail down Voldemort’s cheek.

Harry’s head swivelled to his right, toward a sudden motion he saw out of the corner of his eye. A black-robed and masked wizard stood in the entry to the dining room, his wand slashing downward. “Desisto Flumen! ” A streak of purple flame leapt out of the Death Eater’s wand toward Ginny. Harry could see it travel in slow motion toward her.

Ginny! To your left! Harry warned her.

Ginny turned but too slowly to avoid the curse, which hit her in the chest. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open as she fell to the ground.

Harry ran to her side, still under his Cloak, and, as he reached her, he heard Voldemort scream, “Dolohov, YOU FOOL!! You’ve ruined everything!”

Harry turned his head and saw Voldemort and his lackey walking toward Ginny’s body. Anger and fear building in him, Harry yelled “Get away from her!” and waved his hand at the pair. The two Dark wizards were thrown backwards with such force that they both struck a wall and fell limply to the ground.

Harry knelt next to Ginny, and his heart stopped. Her eyes were open, staring out into space, and her face showed the same surprise that it had when she had been hit. He checked for a pulse at her neck and couldn’t detect one. Dreading what he might find, he explored their Bond, but, to his dismay, he found nothing. He picked up her limp body, pulling it into a hug. “Please, Ginny. You can’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.” He searched the Bond again and discovered only emptiness.

He gently placed her back on the ground and straightened up. With tears streaming down his cheeks, he threw his head back and his fists clenched, crying out at the heavens, “NOOOO!!!

***********

Ginny found herself floating above Harry and looked down on him. What is going on? she asked. She watched in confusion as he held her body, pleading for her to be alive, and then laid her down. She noticed with astonishment that Harry was surrounded by an eerie glow, which was steadily growing stronger. When he screamed toward the sky, the light suddenly radiated from his body. It passed through her without effect, but the same could not be said of the manor.

In a staggering display of accidental magic, Harry’s unfettered emotions caused the manor to begin to crumble. All of the glass in the picture windows shattered and blew out onto the previously well-manicured lawn. The walls of the first floor were no more, and, with no support, the upper floors came crashing down. She put her arms over her head to protect herself from the rubble, but was amazed when it just passed through her body as if she was just a spirit. Am I dead? Is this my soul?

Ginny’s head turned in response to the resounding crash of a huge glass chandelier exploding ten feet to Harry’s right, sending shards in every direction. Ginny tried to move toward Harry to protect him from the shrapnel, but noticed that, despite all of the debris flying through the air, none of it reached Harry. He seemed to be surrounded by an invisible impenetrable barrier. His magic must be protecting him. A moment later the whole ceiling collapsed. Behind him, a three- story brick chimney toppled over like a tree felled by a woodsman, causing the ground to shake as it hit. In the space of thirty seconds, the manor had been obliterated, leaving piles of bricks and shattered wood, which were hard to see in the cloud of dust that enveloped the area.

Despite all of this destruction, Harry seemed totally unaware of his surroundings, his attention focused entirely on Ginny’s body. During the destruction, he collapsed on top of her body, pulling her to him, holding her face next to his. He was murmuring something under his breath, but Ginny couldn’t hear what he was saying. She wanted with all of her heart to move toward him, but, instead, she kept floating further and further away.

Suddenly, she felt a tug on her chest. When she looked down, she noticed for the first time that a glowing golden rope seemed to emanate from her heart. She followed the course of the rope and saw that it led to her unmoving body that Harry was holding tightly. Harry whispered again, and she felt another yank. Each time he said something, the pull of the rope brought her closer to her body. When she finally was close enough to discern his words, she was able to hear him beseech repeatedly, “Please, Ginny, come back to me. Come back to me.”

As he continued to plead, she was drawn closer and closer to her body. When her soul finally touched her physical body, she felt a squelching sensation as her two components merged. Inside her body again, she struggled to breathe and to open her eyes, but it was as if she had no control over her physical form yet. Panic began to set in, but she heard Harry say one more time, “Come back to me.” Abruptly she gasped and her heart jumped as it began to beat again.

With another strong effort, she was able to pry her eyelids open, and her first sight were Harry’s green eyes, filled with tears. “Ginny! You’re alive!”

Her arms squeezed him tightly as she whispered to him, “You saved me again. You brought me back.”

He pulled his head back, his face filled with confusion. Before she could explain, they heard the sudden shifting of some wreckage. They peered in the direction of the noise, but could only see a cloud of dust.

A shadow slowly emerged from the smoke, stumbling over the wreckage until Harry and Ginny were able to discern who was coming towards them. It was Voldemort. He stopped several yards from them and stood swaying in place as he gazed at the ruins of the house. They could see that his left hand hung limply against his side and he was bleeding copiously from a gash on the right side of his scalp. Like his body, Voldemort’s robes were covered in dust and blood and torn in many places.

It was obvious when he spied them, since his face suddenly changed from one of weariness to a mix of surprise and fury. “Potter?! How can it be? I killed you myself.”

”Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” Harry replied with a grin as he stood and helped Ginny to her feet. Harry and Ginny assumed duelling positions, their wands ready. “It’s time to end this, Tom, once and for all. The prophecy said that only one of us can live, and I plan on making sure that this time it is I who survives.”

“I killed you once; I can do it again,” snarled Voldemort. “Avada Kedavra!

Harry and Ginny dove in opposite directions to avoid the Killing Curse. Harry was back on his feet in an instant and was able to cast a Shield Charm in time to block Voldemort’s next curse. Harry aimed a Blasting Curse at his opponent and then risked a glance over at Ginny. Seeing that she was starting to circle around to Tom’s flank, Harry sent a barrage of spells at Tom to keep his attention on Harry. Tom had to temporarily focus on defence, putting his efforts into a shield to protect himself from Harry’s onslaught. Our plan is working; he’s more tired than he was earlier! Harry thought.

When Harry paused to take a breath, Voldemort yelled “Confringo! ” but the spell bounced harmlessly off of Harry’s shield and rebounded back at Tom. Before Harry could switch back to the offensive, Voldemort struck with his own barrage of spells, trying to overcome Harry’s shield. It became obvious that Harry’s theory that Tom was holding back so as to not injure Ginny was correct as he sent one dangerous spell after another at him, including a few Killing Curses. Voldemort’s frustration grew as he was unable to touch Harry with anything he was casting and his spell casting became even more frenzied. However, Harry was also unable to mount much of an offence, because he was either dodging or focusing his energy into his Shield Charm.

I need to come up with a new strategy, thought Harry as he dove to avoid another Killing Curse. As he returned to his feet, he saw a piece of broken lumber that looked conveniently like a spear. Harry flicked his wand at it, Banishing it toward Voldemort.

As the spear approached Voldemort, he cast a shield, but the projectile flew right through it. At the last moment, he dodged out of its path, but just barely. It looks like his shields can’t stop non-magical items either, thought Harry. I can use that to my advantage.

With lots of material nearby that could be turned into weapons, Harry began Banishing other debris from the manor’s destruction at Tom. Riddle was able to destroy most of the wreckage with well-aimed Blasting Charms, but some of the fragments still managed to inflict some damage. He isn’t moving very well, noted Harry. The injury to his left arm must be affecting him more than he wants to let on.

Between attacks, Voldemort managed to point his wand at a pile of rubble, saying “Oppugno! ” The small pieces of brick, stone, plaster, and wood sped toward Harry, circling him and striking him all over his body. He crouched into a small ball, protecting his head with his arms, but he was still sustaining multiple lacerations and bruises from the hailstorm of rubble. Now what? Racking his brain for a solution, knowing that he was a sitting duck, he found it hard to think due to the pain the debris was causing.

Desperation was starting to set in when he had a flash of inspiration. “Vertex Prospero! ” he yelled, and the rubble was caught up in a windstorm and he directed it away from his body. Keeping the whirlwind between himself and Voldemort, he guided it toward Tom, intentionally aiming it over the remnants of a shattered window so it would pick up the glass shards, before attacking Tom with it.

Voldemort transfigured a metal dome to protect himself, but Harry increased the wind velocity of the miniature tornado, and he saw that small rents appear in Tom’s shelter. He kept up the barrage until, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something flying through the air at Ginny’s back. Ginny, down! he warned through their bond.

**********

As soon as Tom attacked Harry, it was obvious to Ginny that he was sparing no attention to her. Stealthily, she circled around to Voldemort’s left, hoping to catch him by surprise while his focus was on Harry.

“Weasley, you bitch!”

Ginny turned to see Draco, standing before her, his face covered in dirt and scratches, his robes shredded, barely able to hold together. My Incarcerous must have cancelled when I ‘died,’ she thought. She also noticed that he was moving slowly, probably as a result of her kicks to his groin, causing her to grin. He pointed his wand at her and snarled, “How dare you bind me in a cupboard, you blood traitor! I am going to make you pay for that.”

“Do you really think you are capable of that, Malfoy? I did trounce you earlier when I was unarmed. Now, I have my wand,” she taunted, swirling it around. “You are no match for me and my power, you ponce.” She smiled at him and caused her aura to flare, surrounding her with a golden glow. As she walked toward him, Draco paled and took a step back, obviously intimidated by Ginny’s show of strength. She took another step and he stepped back again, coming up against a partially intact wall.

Just as she was going to cast the Disarming Charm, she noticed Draco flick his wand, but didn’t see any evidence of what spell he had cast.

Ginny, down! Harry’s voice said through their Bond. Automatically, she dropped to the ground, feeling the wind from something flying just over the top of her head as it went by. She then heard a gurgle and looked up in the direction of the sound.

Malfoy’s body was pinned against the wall, his eyes bulging in panic. Looking more closely, Ginny saw a large piece of glass impaling him through the neck, blood pouring over his chest. His hands were blindly grasping for the glass, but, after a few seconds, they dropped limply to his side as his body sagged in death.

Ginny stood up cautiously, but, with a quick inspection, could tell that Draco was indeed dead. I despised the git, but I didn’t want him to die, she thought. Before the guilt at being the cause of his death could consume her, she turned around to see how Harry was faring in his duel with Tom.

**********

When Harry stopped to warn Ginny, he lost control of the Tempest Charm for just a moment, which was all that Voldemort needed. The metal dome vanished and he was again on the offensive. “Sectumsempra! ” Harry cast a Shield Charm, but part of the spell penetrated it, slicing through his right forearm.

Unable to hold his wand, it dropped to the ground. Kneeling down quickly, Harry gritted his teeth against the pain and picked up his wand in his left hand. He pointed it at a pile of plaster dust near Voldemort’s feet and said, “Ventus! ” The dust flew into the air, right into Voldemort’s eyes, blinding him for a moment, giving Harry a quick respite from the attacks. Looking at his wound, he could see that the laceration was deep and had severed some tendons. He tried to flex his fingers, but he hissed in pain at the attempt. He pointed his wand at his arm and conjured a bandage over the wound to stem the bleeding.

He stood up just as Voldemort finished wiping at his eyes. Tom laughed and taunted, “Potter, why don’t you admit defeat now? I might make your death a painless one. You have no chance against me with your wand arm injured.”

“You’d be surprised at how good I am with my left hand, Tom,” retorted Harry. He pointed his wand at Voldemort, yelling, “Confringo! ” Riddle jumped out of the way of the curse, and it continued past him, hitting the remnants of a chimney, causing brick and mortar to rain down on the Dark Lord.

Harry kept up the attack, Banishing more and more debris at Voldemort, but the pace was exhausting Harry. For his part, Tom was able to respond, sending curses back at Harry, but it was obvious to Harry that he was fatiguing also. In the middle of the duel, he felt a twinge of sadness through the Bond. I hope Ginny’s okay; I really could use her help in taking him down, he thought.

The next moment, Harry dodged a bright yellow curse, but his momentary relief that he had avoided another spell was broken when he tripped on the remains of a wooden beam. He put his right foot out to keep him from falling but was still too off balance to avoid the next spell, a silver-grey one that almost looked like liquid metal spewing out of the yew wand. As the spell hit him, his body was coated in a thin layer of the liquid. Before he had a chance to react, the liquid began to solidify, encasing him in a layer of metal.

Unable to move, Harry tried to figure a way out of this trap. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself, but found that he was unable to inhale any air. I don't have much time before I pass out. There's no way I can blast my way out of here without hurting myself. Can I somehow melt this without sustaining any damage?

As he was starting to panic, his lungs burning from lack of oxygen, Harry heard Ginny's voice in his mind. Apparate to me!

Of course, thought Harry. He concentrated on Ginny's location and travelled to her. He found himself about twenty feet behind Voldemort, who was cackling and yelling, "I've finally got you, Potter!" his wand raised to deliver a final blow. Just in front of Tom was a metal statue of Harry, frozen in the off-balanced pose that the spell had hit him in. Bludgeoning Hex, suggested Ginny, and he nodded in agreement.

The twin non-verbal hexes hit Voldemort in the back, launching him through the air. As had occurred so many times in the last two years, Harry saw Tom soar through the air in slow-motion. His body hurtled toward the metal statue of Harry and his head struck Harry's metal chest. His momentum continued to carry him onward and his neck bent awkwardly, until they heard a loud crack and Voldemort's body fell to the ground limply.

Harry and Ginny approached the Dark Lord cautiously, their wands out. Tom was lying in his back, his neck bent to the left. They tensed in readiness when his right shoulder twitched, but that seemed to be all he could move.

Voldemort's eyes bulged in panic. "I can't move my arms!" he wailed.

Harry smiled and said, "It looks like not even you can survive a fractured neck, Tom.” The couple walked toward him and Harry bent over to pick up the yew and phoenix feather wand that lay on the ground next to him. He stared directly into Voldemort’s eyes and as he handed it to Ginny, who then took the wand in both hands. Snap!

Voldemort gasped as he watched his trusty tool rendered useless. “How dare you!”

Harry pointed his own wand at Voldemort’s face. “We dare because it’s finished, Tom. Maybe you just don’t realize it yet, but it’s over.”

“You can’t kill me. I’ve taken steps to ensure my survival,” Voldemort responded, still arrogant, even with a severely injured body.

Harry smirked. He pulled his pouch out from under his shirt and opened it, pulling the Serpent’s Staff out and throwing it to the ground in front of his adversary. “Do you mean this? We’ve already taken care of it.”

While they wouldn’t have guessed it possible, Voldemort became even paler. “Your only chance, Riddle,” said Ginny, who was also pointing her wand at him, “is to think of what you’ve done … Think, and try for some real remorse.”

“What is this?”

“It’s your last chance,” said Ginny, “it’s all you’ve got left … we’ve seen what will happen otherwise… Be a man … try … Try for some remorse.”

“Never! I will never regret what I have done in the name of my cause.”

“It’s your soul, Tom,” said Harry, shrugging his shoulders. He held out his injured hand and Ginny gently took it in hers. Harry looked into her eyes and she gave his hand a barely perceptible squeeze. Then they both turned toward him. Simultaneously, they moved their wands in the familiar oval pattern and then slashed downward at Tom. “Aufero Malum! ” they cried in unison and white lights erupted from their wands, merging a few feet in front of them, and then striking Voldemort in the chest. His eyes rolled back in his head and his head flopped against the ground. A ghostly form of a still human-looking Tom Riddle was pulled from Voldemort’s body, his face in an evil smile, mocking them. “See, you haven’t defeated me! I can still come back, and when I do, I’ll kill you both!”

Again in unison, the couple calmly incanted, “Obcidione Caedo, ” and twin purple spells travelled toward the wraith. As they hit the spirit, his eyes widened for a moment before he faded into nothingness, once and for all.

Not sure how to react, they both took a deep breath. The couple looked around, surveying the wreckage around them. The quiet and stillness was almost stifling. They looked into each other’s eyes, green meeting brown. Still holding hands, Ginny pulled Harry into a hug and said into his chest, "It's finally over, isn't it?"

"Yes, I think it is.” After a short pause, he squeezed her more tightly and added, “I was so scared that I’d lost you," Harry replied with a shudder. "You had no pulse and I couldn’t feel you at all through our Bond. Do you know what happened?"

“I am not sure,” she said, raising her head to look up at him. “After I was struck by that spell, it was like I was a spirit. I was floating, looking down on you and my body, gradually drifting further and further away. There was a golden rope that tethered me to my body, but it was getting thinner and thinner. But, then, I felt a tug on the rope. And then another. I saw that I was getting closer to you, and, when I was near enough, I could hear you repeating, ‘Come back to me.’ Each time you said it, I felt another tug, until, finally, what I think was my soul merged with my body, and I woke up.” She put her head on his shoulder, and whispered, “I think I was dead, but your love was strong enough to call me back to the living.”

"How touching," said a voice behind them. They spun around and saw Dolohov standing before them, his wand pointed at them. "I am going to make you pay for killing my Lord. Avada Kedavra! "

Harry instantly conjured an armoured shield and held it up in front of them, blocking the Killing Curse. As he lowered the shield, he stared back at the wizard who had almost taken his Ginny from him and was filled with rage. He flung the shield at Dolohov, and as the Death Eater ducked to avoid being hit, Harry yelled, "Diffindo! ” The curse hit Dolohov in the wrist, causing him to drop his wand. Harry walked slowly toward Dolohov and flicked his wand at the Death Eater, and Dolohov’s head snapped back as if he had been punched in the chin. "How dare ..." Another flick of Harry’s wand and Dolohov’s head snapped back again. "You try to kill ..." Another flick. "My wife!" followed by one more wand flick, which lifted Dolohov off the ground, bringing the wizard to lie at Harry’s feet.

Harry stood over the wizard, his heart racing and his wand arm trembling in fury. He pointed his wand between Dolohov's eyes and said, "Avad ..."

Before he could finish the incantation that would end the wizard's life, he felt a restraining hand on his forearm. Harry, don't. You'll regret this for the rest of your life if you do this.

Harry paused for a moment, his wand trembling in Dolohov’s face. He then dropped his wand and looked in Ginny's eyes and saw them pleading him not to follow through on his emotions. He took a deep breath and looked back at Dolohov. He waved his left hand at him, a red light erupting from his fingertips and Dolohov collapsed unconscious.

Harry pulled Ginny into a hug and thought, Thank you. You're right; if I had gone through with it, it would have been cold-blooded murder and my guilt would have haunted me as long as I lived.

Ginny bound Dolohov with Incarcerous and stepped on his wand, which was at their feet, snapping it in two. What do we do now? she asked.

I don’t know. What I want to do is to crawl into bed with you and sleep for a week. But I don’t suppose that’s a good idea.

Oh, it’s a great idea, she replied with a cheeky grin, but I agree that my family might not be too happy if we did that. We should probably return to Hogwarts to see what happened there. She closed her eyes, her heart filled with trepidation as she remembered what Voldemort had said about Bill.

Harry, feeling her dread, sent a wave of love and comfort to her. Whatever happened, we’ll get through it together. He hugged her one more time and said aloud, “Shall we?”

As he prepared to Disapparate, Ginny pulled on his hand. “Wait. What should we do with that?” she asked, pointing at the statue that was left from Voldemort’s final attack on Harry.

“Destroy it, perhaps?” Harry replied. “I look a little ridiculous, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s sort of cute. We could keep it and show our children that even the great Harry Potter trips up sometimes.”

Seeing the smirk on her face and feeling the mischief through the Bond, Harry just smiled and waved his wand at the statue, and it exploded into a million pieces. “Now that’s taken care of, let’s get out of here.”

He grabbed her hand, and they Disapparated away.

A/N: The purple curse that Dolohov hits Ginny with is meant to be the same curse that he used against Hermione in the Department of Mysteries. The incantation that I created is translated as “Cease flow” in Latin, implying that it causes all blood flow in the body to stop. HP Wiki conjectures that since he had to cast the curse silently, (Hermione had Silenced him) that it was not as strong as it would have been had he said the incantation. So, this is the full strength curse that hits Ginny.

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Chapter 58: Recovering

Author's Notes: I am sorry again about the delay, but my job always gets busiest in August and September, giving me little time to write (or do much of anything fun, unfortunately).


Recovering

Harry and Ginny Apparated to the Hogwarts gates. Although it was still the middle of the night, they could see evidence of a battle as soon as they arrived in the moonlight. One of the gates was knocked off its hinges while the other was hopelessly mangled. They walked the path to the school warily, observing other indications of the fight, such as divots in the lawn or dark stains on the grass from someone’s blood.

The front doors were wide open so they walked straight to the Great Hall, figuring that was where they would be able to find someone to bring them up to speed on the events of earlier. As they scanned the room, they saw several small groups of people huddled together. Some were eating and drinking quietly, while others were gathered around what were obviously casualties covered in white sheets, but they all seemed deep in conversation and oblivious to the fact that someone had come in the room. As soon as Ginny spotted a redheaded woman near the Head Table kneeling over one such body, she ran toward her, Harry close behind her.

“Mum!” she cried as she approached.

Molly, who had been hunched over and was sobbing, looked up suddenly and her visage of grief changed to one of relief. “Ginny! You’re alright!” With tears in her eyes she stood and held out her arms. Ginny launched herself at her mum and was engulfed in a traditional Weasley hug. “Oh, my dear girl, you’re safe,” Molly repeated as she held her tight and rocked back and forth.

After a moment, Molly noticed Harry standing behind Ginny and she reached for him. “You come here, Harry,” she said, and Harry was brought into the three-way embrace, causing Harry to wince as Molly inadvertently squeezed his side a little too hard. I wonder why the gash the wyvern gave me is still sensitive? thought Harry. Maybe my healing spells aren’t as good as I thought.

Molly, unaware that she had hurt Harry, released the couple, and asked, “What happened to you, Ginny? We were all so afraid for you.”

“I was kidnapped by Malfoy and taken to Voldemort’s secret manor. They wanted me to have a baby and then raise it to be the next Dark Lord,” explained Ginny.

Molly’s face turned ashen white, understanding Ginny’s implication. “They didn’t rape you, did they?” she asked, putting her hand on Ginny’s arm.

“No, they didn’t. I escaped before Malfoy laid a hand on me.”

Molly held her daughter at arm’s length, inspecting her. “And you’re sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine; just a few scrapes and bruises. And I would love a long soak in a bathtub. Harry’s a little worse off, but I’m sure Madam Pomfrey can fix him right up.”

“Why didn’t you contact Harry through your Bond?” asked her mum. “I thought you could send messages to him from wherever.”

“They had me imprisoned in a room that blocked our Bond, but when I escaped from the room, I was able to contact Harry, and he was able to come to me.”

Molly, with tears in her eyes, hugged Ginny again, this time even harder than the first time. Under her breath, she said, “I’m so happy you’re safe; I don’t know if I could stand another loss.” She swallowed a sob and pulled back from Ginny, glancing at the shrouded body next to her, and said with a sob, “Ginny, I don’t know how to tell you this, but Bill was killed in the battle.”

Ginny hugged her mum again, patting her on the back. “We know, Mum. Tom told us,” she whispered. Ginny straightened up and asked, her voice tremulous, “Is everyone else okay?”

“Ronald and Fred are both in the hospital wing being treated for injuries, but Poppy was confident that they would both be fine,” reassured her mother. “George and your father are with them.” Harry and Ginny both let out sighs of relief when they heard that the rest of the family was safe.

The click-clack of quickly approaching feet caused them all to look up and saw Headmistress McGonagall approaching them. It was obvious when she realized who was with Molly, as her eyes opened wide and she gasped. “Ginny and Harry!” she said, a smile on her face, and she hugged the couple. When she released them, she asked, “I take it your rescue mission was successful, Mr Potter?”

Harry grinned, and replied, “Better than you can imagine.”

The headmistress looked around and whispered, “I know we can trust everyone here, Harry, but is it wise for you to appear without any disguise? With this many people around, it’s very likely the news that you are alive will get out.”

A low murmur had been growing in the few moments since the couple had entered the Great Hall. Harry and Ginny looked around the room and noticed that a few people were looking in their direction and pointing. Harry smiled even more broadly. “It doesn’t matter any more. He’s gone, Professor. We killed Voldemort.”

Molly inhaled audibly at the news, her hand covering her mouth and began sobbing. Ginny put her arm around her mother and heard her mutter, “Then, it wasn’t all for naught. Are you sure? He’s gone? It’s over? It’s finally over?”

Ginny smiled and nodded. “Yes, Mum. It’s over.”

Meanwhile, the Headmistress very uncharacteristically squeaked and pulled Harry into a hug that would have made Molly proud. After a moment she quickly regained her composure. “The spells worked?” she asked.

Harry nodded. “The Aufero Malum and Obcidione Caedo spells worked exactly as planned.”

Professor McGonagall asked, “What happened to Ginny? Who kidnapped her and why?”

Ginny interrupted, “Professor, we will tell you everything, but I need to get Harry to the hospital wing. He has some injuries that Madam Pomfrey needs to deal with.”

“I’m fine, Ginny; it can wait.”

Ginny turned to Harry, her face showing a trace of frustration. “You are not ‘fine,’ Harry. Your side is sore where that wyvern slashed you.” Molly let out a gasp while Ginny’s rant continued. “Your back is covered in scrapes and bruises from the rubble that Tom threw at you, and you can’t even move your fingers from that laceration on your forearm. Don’t forget, I know exactly how each of those injuries feels and I know how much the Professor hurt you when she hugged you. I am taking you to see Madam Pomfrey now,” pointing her finger in his face, “and I want no argument out of you.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged. “Yes, dear.”

“Men,” muttered Ginny as she led him out of the room, causing both Minerva and Molly to smirk at the young couple.

As Harry and Ginny left the Great Hall, they heard the amplified voice of the Headmistress. “Attention, everyone! I have an announcement.” They turned a corner and could no longer make out her voice, but heard a loud cheer to whatever she had said.

A few moments later, Ginny was reaching for the handle on the hospital wing door, when it suddenly swung open, revealing Hermione. She gasped and then said, “Ginny! Harry! You’re back!” She hugged Ginny and asked, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Hermione,” replied Ginny. Hermione released her best friend and started to move to hug Harry but Ginny quickly put herself between them. “No, Hermione. Harry‘s hurt, and I don’t want you to make it worse with a hug. Let’s get him inside.”

The trio entered the ward and saw beds filled with patients. On the right they spotted Ron and Fred in adjacent beds, George and Arthur in chairs between the beds.

“Ron, Fred, are you alright?” asked Harry, leading Ginny toward her brothers, despite her tugging him in the direction of Madam Pomfrey.

All four heads turned as one and the Potters were greeted with cries of joy and relief, hugs, and a litany of simultaneous questions that were impossible to decipher in the clamour. Through it all Ginny protected Harry from any physical contact, knowing that even back slaps would be painful to him. Ginny and Harry learned that Ron had suffered a broken ankle and Fred had lost an ear, and were awaiting healing while Madam Pomfrey cared for more serious injuries.

Ginny and Harry gave a very condensed version of their tale, but this only brought an onslaught of more questions. Ginny waved her hand, saying, “Silencio! ” For a moment, everyone’s mouths continued to move, but when they realized nothing was coming out, they stopped. “We promise that we will answer your questions eventually, but I must insist that my husband receive some much needed healing immediately. Please excuse us.” She grabbed Harry’s left hand and as she turned to leave, flicked her fingers, cancelling the Silencing Spell, leaving her family and friend amazed at her wandless magic and frustrated at the lack of information.

The couple found Madam Pomfrey caring for Tonks a few beds away. Remus was seated at her side, holding her hand. As they arrived, Madam Pomfrey stood upright and said, “There, that should hold you for now. Take that Dreamless Sleep Potion and I will check back on you in the morning.” Her face softened, and she added, “Congratulations, by the way. Your little one was unaffected by your injuries and is perfectly healthy.”

Remus and Tonks looked at each other in shock. Remus sputtered, “You’re … p … pregnant? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know. Because of all the changes that our bodies go through, the cycles of Metamorphmagi are always irregular, so that sign is unreliable. I guess that explains why I’ve been queasy in the mornings.”

Harry smirked and asked, “So, Remus, when are you going to make an honest witch out of her?”

Remus paled and then started patting his robes until a look of obvious relief appeared on his face. He turned toward Tonks and took her hand. “This wasn’t exactly what I had planned, but I don’t want to wait until everything is perfect. When we received the message that an attack at Hogwarts was going to occur, I was just getting ready to ask you a question.” He knelt down on one knee and pulled out a ring box from his pocket. “Nymphadora Tonks, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

Tonks’ face broke into a smile that went from ear to ear and her hair started cycling through all the colours of the rainbow as she responded, “Yes!” She yanked him from his position on the floor and pulled him into a searing kiss.

After a few moments, Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat and warned, “Easy, now. You’re still recovering.”

Tonks’ grip on Remus relaxed and he stood up, his face flushed. “Sorry about that. I guess we got a little carried away.”

“I understand, but she needs her rest. Take your potion and get to sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am,” responded Tonks. She grabbed the front of Remus’ robes and kissed him one more time before gulping down her potion. She turned on her side, holding Remus’s hand and said sleepily, “Night, Daddy,” before her eyes closed and her breathing slowed.

Madam Pomfrey turned to the Potters and asked, “How about you two? Are you hurt?”

Ginny said, “I’m fine, but Harry has a few injuries that need to be attended to.”

The Matron nodded and led them behind some curtains surrounding an empty bed. “So what do you need me to look at, Mr Potter?”

“I received a Cutting Hex to my forearm, which I think sliced some of my tendons. My back is a little sore; I probably have some bruises and abrasions there. But my side is the worst. I received a laceration there earlier and I healed it, but the pain is steadily worsening.”

“Let’s have a look. Off with your robes and shirt.”

Harry removed his tattered robes with little difficulty, but, when he tried to take off his shirt, he winced at the pain. Madam Pomfrey Vanished the shirt with a quick wave of her wand and gasped. “What happened here? Your back looks almost as bad as when you were whipped at the Ministry.”

“Voldemort pummelled me with rubble from a collapsed building. It really doesn’t hurt that much. I think most of the injuries are superficial.”

She waved her wand over his back a few times and said, “It looks like you are correct; I can take care of these easily enough.” A few moments later, she pointed to his forearm. “How about this?” She removed the bandage that Harry had conjured and inspected the wound. “You are right; some of your tendons are lacerated. But that is also easily treated.” She precisely guided her wand over the injury, knitting the tendons back together, one by one. After she closed the skin wound, she asked, “Can you move your fingers now?”

Harry gingerly opened and closed his fist a few times. “Yes, that feels much better. Thanks.”

“Now, let’s see this wound on your side.” Harry lifted his left arm slowly in obvious pain, revealing a scar that extended from his shoulder blade to his hip. It was red, raised, and at the upper edge, some yellow-green drainage could be seen starting to seep from it. “What in Merlin’s name happened here?” she asked sternly.

“I was cut by the claw of a wyvern,” Harry answered sheepishly.

Madam Pomfrey’s eyes widened. “A wyvern? Are you sure? There haven’t been any wyverns in Britain for over a century.”

“All I can say is that there was one here a few hours ago. It’s dead now, though.”

“And you’re certain it was the claw, not the tail that caused this?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Good. If it was the tail, I don’t know if there is anything I could do. While the claws do have the same poison as the tail, it’s not as potent. I just have to remove the poison and cleanse the wound fully and you should make a full recovery. Unfortunately, to do that, I have to open the wound up again, and I can’t use any pain potions or spells. If I do, the poison is actually strengthened and it could kill you.”

Ginny struggled to control her fear, but Harry reached out with his hand and squeezed hers. Don’t worry; we didn’t just kill Voldemort to turn around and have this injury end it. I have too much to live for.

Ginny blinked back tears and took a deep breath. You’re right. We’ll get through this just like everything else: together.

As directed by Madam Pomfrey, Harry lay down on his side, holding his left arm behind his back to allow her access to the wound. Ginny was seated near the head of the bed, holding on to his right hand tightly. “Are you ready, Mr Potter? This will hurt like the dickens, but there is nothing I can do to help with that.”

Harry nodded. “We’re ready, Madam Pomfrey. Ginny will share the pain; between the two of us, I think we’ll be able to handle it.”

“Alright.” Madam Pomfrey pointed her wand at the top of the scar and murmured an incantation under her breath. Harry hissed and squeezed his eyes tightly as his skin was flayed open. Ginny winced as well, fighting back the tears. Madam Pomfrey ran her wand down the length of the wound, exposing the injured tissue underneath. She then ran her wand over the wound again, this time siphoning a greenish liquid that was absorbed into the tip of her wand. When the wand had completed its course along the gash, she pointed her wand at a jar on a bedside table, and it promptly was filled with the poison. She then ran over the wound one last time, this time the pulling the skin edges together magically.

“There, all done. I’m sorry, but unfortunately you will be left with another scar. I did the best that I could.” She reached over to the bedside table and picked up two identical vials, holding them toward the couple. “Now, both of you need to take some pain-relieving potion and get some sleep. Do either of you think you will need Dreamless Sleep potion?”

“No, ma’am,” they replied simultaneously and they gulped down the potion.

“I suppose my suggesting that Miss Weasley…” she paused for a moment at Ginny’s glare. “I am sorry. I suppose my suggesting that Mrs Potter sleep in an adjoining bed will be ignored.” At the nods of the couple, she continued. “Then, I will endeavour to make you more comfortable.” She waved her wand over Harry’s bed and it widened to accommodate two people more easily.

Ginny stood and said, “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. We appreciate your understanding.” As soon as the Matron left the curtained area, Ginny called, “Dobby!”

The house-elf appeared and jumped up onto Harry’s bed, wrapping his thin arms around Harry’s chest. “Oh, the great Harry Potter and his Ginny are okay! Dobby was greatly worried about you.”

“Dobby,” Ginny asked, “Can you please get us both something to sleep in from my quarters?”

“Yes, Mistress Ginny. Dobby will do that immediately.” With a snap of his fingers, some silky fabric appeared at the foot of Harry’s bed.

Ginny picked up the item on top, which was an almost transparent negligee that Ginny had received from Tonks on her hen’s night, and blushed. “No, Dobby, I was hoping for something that might cover more, like pyjamas.”

Dobby’s face showed obvious confusion. “But Dobby brought Master Harry’s favourite for Mistress Ginny.”

Ginny looked at Harry, whose face was now red as well, and he shrugged. “He’s right; it is my favourite.”

Ginny smiled and then turned back to Dobby. “Please bring me the light blue pyjamas that are in the top left drawer of my dresser.” A moment later the requested garment was lying at the foot of the bed. “Thank you, Dobby.” She picked them up and said, “I’ll just change in the loo and use the facilities,” as she kissed Harry on the cheek. “Back in a moment.”

Harry changed into his own pyjamas, got back into bed, and awaited his wife. Despite trying to stay awake, he was just dozing off when he thought he heard her voice whispering outside of the curtain. He almost arose to check on her, but before he could, she parted the curtains and plopped down beside him, her head on his chest and his arm holding her close.

“Mmmm, I missed this,” she purred, running her hand across his chest.

“Me, too,” answered Harry sleepily. A moment later, his breathing slowed, and Ginny realized that he was already asleep. Her eyes fluttered close as well, but she opened them when she heard a muffled boom in the distance. She looked out the window and saw some fireworks exploding in the sky above Hogsmeade as she gave in to her exhaustion.

**********

Ginny awoke the next morning feeling very warm both outside and inside. Sometime in the night the couple had changed positions so that they were spooning, accounting for the external cosy sensation. Harry’s hand had found itself under her pyjama top, which was causing her insides to melt. Better stop that right now, especially after my discussion with Madam Pomfrey last night. She moved his hand so that it wrapped around her waist. Feeling his confusion, she responded, Not now, Harry; we’re in the hospital wing after all.

Oh, yeah, I forgot. Maybe tonight then? You could wear the ‘sleepwear’ that Dobby brought you.

Ginny turned toward her husband and said, “We need to talk about that.”

Harry, surprised at her sudden change in mood, sat up. “Okay,” he said hesitatingly.

Ginny sat up as well and cast a Silencing Charm on the curtained area. She took a deep breath and looked into Harry’s eyes, biting her lower lip. “Believe me that I want to, I really do, but we need to take a break from our physical relationship.”

“Why?”

“Remember why Tom and Draco kidnapped me? They wanted me to conceive when Draco raped me. To make sure that it worked, they had a healer give me potions and charms to prepare me, to guarantee that I would be fertile when he took me. That woman we saved from the wyvern, Mrs Watkins, she was the healer. Last night, after I changed into my pyjamas, I described what had been done to Madam Pomfrey, and she said that these treatments will wear off eventually, but not for a while.”

“How long?”

Ginny mumbled something that Harry couldn’t hear.

“I couldn’t quite make that out. How long?” he asked, tilting his head.

Ginny responded, a little louder this time, but her head remained down. “Three months.”

Harry paused for a moment, thinking. “Okay.”

Ginny’s face showed a look of surprise. “Really?”

Harry grabbed her hands, stared into her eyes, and reached out through their Bond. “Merlin, you really are nervous about this, aren’t you?” He chuckled and smiled reassuringly to her. “Ginny, I do enjoy the physical side of our relationship, but that’s not what’s important. I fell in love with you long before we became intimate, and we kept our hands to ourselves for months before we married. We can do it again.”

Ginny let out a sigh of relief. “I was hoping you’d feel that way, but I wasn’t sure, since we rarely take any breaks from our ‘activities’,” she said with a grin.

Harry shrugged. “Well, first we were on our honeymoon, and then we discovered that we could cause Tommy pain by making love. And even after we severed the connection with him, we continued. I guess it just became a habit, but a very enjoyable habit.” Harry pulled Ginny into a hug and whispered, “It’s not like we can’t be physical at all; we can enjoy ourselves in other ways.”

Before Ginny could respond, Madam Pomfrey pulled back the curtains around their bed and started saying something that they couldn’t hear. Harry waved his hand, cancelling the Silencing Charm, allowing her to be heard.

“Good, you are awake. Let me check to see how you are healing.” She moved around the bed, waving her wand over first Harry and then Ginny. “You both seem to be doing well this morning. You need to eat something and then get dressed. Dobby left you some breakfast with a warming charm and brought you clothes as well. When you are done, the Headmistress is waiting for you in her office.”

As soon as the preparations for the day were completed, Harry and Ginny walked hand in hand to the Headmistress’ office. On their way, they encountered a few younger students, who whispered and pointed, but didn’t approach the couple. When they arrived at the gargoyle, it pivoted to allow them entrance without a password, winking at them as they passed. At the top of the stairs, they knocked and opened the door upon hearing Professor McGonagall’s crisp, “Enter.”

What they found in her office surprised them. It had obviously been magically expanded to accommodate the large group inside. Professor McGonagall was behind her desk, and just to the right of her were Professors Flitwick and Sprout, as well as an older woman with a monocle that the pair did not recognize. The entire Weasley family was also present, including Charlie, who must have arrived from Romania this morning. Hermione was seated next to Ron, and Remus, Tonks, Sirius, and Aubrey were huddled together, perhaps talking about wedding plans. Before Harry and Ginny had a chance to greet anyone, Lydia, who had been seated next to Sirius leaped up and hugged Ginny.

“Ginny, I’m so sorry!” she said, her words muffled by Ginny’s robes. “It’s all my fault you were kidnapped! I shouldn’t have asked you to go flying in front of all of those students!”

Ginny patted the back of the younger girl. “It’s alright, Lydia. I don’t blame you. There is no way that you could have known when you asked me to go flying that Tom was going to use that opportunity to kidnap me. And it all came out well in the end. Tom’s dead and Harry can stop hiding.”

“That brings us to the reason I asked you to come here, Mr and Mrs Potter,” interrupted Professor McGonagall. "Please have a seat and tell us exactly what happened. I've invited Madame Bones," indicating the one stranger in the room, ”from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to hear your story as well."

Harry and Ginny sat in the two available chairs, which were to the left of the Headmistress’ desk and faced the assembled group. Ginny took a deep breath and began. “When I went out to fly with Lydia…”

**********

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named

Found Dead

Reportedly Killed by Boy-Who-Lived (Again)

Nation Rejoices

The Wizarding world celebrated yesterday as rumours began to spread from Hogwarts that the self-proclaimed Dark Lord had been killed. However, those celebrations were restrained, as similar news had been reported eighteen years ago on Halloween 1981.

Then, Amelia Bones, acting head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, held a press conference in the afternoon. “Today, the DMLE was given information to investigate a demolished Muggle manor. In the rubble, the deceased body of Tom Riddle Junior, more commonly known as Lord Voldemort, was found. Draco Malfoy was also found, apparently killed in the destruction of the building. Known Death Eater Antonin Dolohov was discovered still alive, but Stunned and bound. The DMLE is still investigating the events of last night and at this time, I have nothing else to report.” Repeated questions from reporters for more information were ignored as she quickly left the room.

Based on witnesses at Hogwarts, it is believed that You-Know-Who was killed by Harry Potter, who was thought to have been killed himself by the Dark Lord last summer. How he could have survived the Killing Curse (again) is unknown at this time. For more information about the life of the enigmatic Mr Potter, see pages 2 and 3.

**********

Ceremony Honours the Fallen

A special ceremony was held yesterday on the Quidditch Pitch at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry honouring the heroes who died in the Battle of Hogwarts last week. William Weasley, a Gringotts curse-breaker, and two current Hogwarts students, Colin Creevey and Victoria Frobisher were the only fatalities on the Light side of the Battle.

William Weasley, son of Arthur and Molly Weasley, was one of the leaders of the force protecting Hogwarts when the Death Eaters, led by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, attacked the school. Eyewitnesses state that he personally killed several of the Dark Lord’s followers, including Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange, who were linked with the murder of Mr Weasley’s wife, Fleur (Delacour) Weasley, last December. He eventually made his way to You-Know-Who and a protracted duel occurred, but, unfortunately, Dark Lord triumphed, striking Mr Weasley with the Killing Curse. For his feats during the Battle, he was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class posthumously.

In his first public appearance since his surprising resurrection from the dead, Harry Potter gave a heartfelt speech, stating that his brother-in-law would not want to be remembered as a war hero, but as a loving husband and father. Mr Weasley’s daughter, Catherine Weasley, will be raised by Harry and Ginny Potter, the young girl’s godparents.

Mr Creevey and Miss Frobisher, both seventh-year Gryffindors, were among a small group of students that chose to stay behind and fight when the student body was evacuated before the Battle. Both of the students were bestowed the Special Award for Services to the School, and a plaque with their names will be hung in the Hogwarts Trophy Room.

Our hearts, thoughts, and prayers go out to the families of these courageous wizards and witch.

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Chapter 59: Epilogue

Epilogue

Another spasm of pain wracked Harry’s body. This is almost as bad as the Cruciatus, he thought. As the pain lessened, his eyes searched desperately for the key to end it, but he saw no indication that he could finish it any time soon. The pain had been coming in waves for hours now, but its intensity and frequency had both increased in the last thirty minutes. He looked back over his shoulder and saw that his opponent was watching him intensely, not giving him a moment’s peace. Exhaustion was starting to effect his reactions, but he couldn’t give in to it. I have to keep pushing through this, for Ginny’s sake, he urged himself.

Finally, he saw fluttering out of the corner of his right eye, and he dove toward it. He pressed his body flat against his broom, pushing every last bit of speed out of it. As he neared his objective, his body trembled with another explosion of pain, his abdomen feeling like it would burst open. He stretched out his arm, his fingertips brushing against his quarry, but before he could grab it, it jerked to the right and abruptly switched directions. He swerved in pursuit, and a few seconds later his fingers surrounded the Golden Snitch, finishing the match.

He searched his surroundings, and found the referee quickly. He flew to her, tossing her the Snitch, before Apparating instantly away from the stadium.

With a pop, he appeared in a white room with Ginny lying on a bed in the centre of it. Her face was covered in sweat and her hair was a mess. She turned her head toward him as he arrived, a smile of relief on her face. “Harry, you finally made it! It certainly took you long enough!”

Before he could respond, a woman in lime green robes who was standing at the foot of Ginny’s bed said, “Mr Potter, you have excellent timing. It’s time for you wife to begin to push.”

**********

Potters Have a

Baby Boy!

Born After Quidditch Final

The editorial board of the Daily Prophet would like to congratulate Harry and Ginny Potter on the birth of their son, Pelton James, yesterday at 3:18 pm, shortly after Mr Potter sealed a fourth straight Quidditch League Cup for the Ballycastle Bats (for more on the match, see the back page). According to a family spokesperson, both mother and son are healthy and doing well.

**********

Bats Win Cup Again

Harry Potter caught the Golden Snitch to end a three and a half hour match in which Ballycastle defeated Puddlemere 280-210. The victory gave the Bats 780 league points, clinching their fourth consecutive League Cup by twenty points. Debbie Muntz, the American Chaser who was brought in as a substitute due to Ginny Potter’s pregnancy, led the scoring for Ballycastle with eight goals. Ron Weasley, Keeper for the Bats, had a rough afternoon, allowing 21 goals against, but he did have 32 saves. Puddlemere scoring was led by Wilda Griffiths with twelve goals, while Oliver Wood was clearly on his game as he had 38 saves and only let thirteen through.

After the match, it was no surprise that League Chairman Ludo Bagman awarded the Dangerous Dai Llewellyn Medal to Mr Potter. The Llewellyn is given to the player who performs the most reckless manoeuvres during the season. This was the fifth consecutive award for Mr Potter, making him the first Seeker to ever win the Llewellyn in his first five seasons in the league. The award was accepted by Mr Weasley, Mr Potter’s brother-in-law, as Mr Potter was otherwise occupied at St Mungo’s. (see page 1)

Ballycastle’s League Cup title was the closest in their streak, primarily due to the absence of Ginny Potter. Mrs Potter, the top scoring Chaser in the league for the last three seasons, played only the first four league matches before team doctors said she would have to sit out the rest of the season. Ballycastle faithful will remember that the Potters had hoped to time Mrs Potter’s pregnancy so that she would miss only the first part of this season and be available for the home stretch matches, but, as we all know, pregnancies don’t always occur exactly as planned. The Bats were very fortunate that Ms Muntz was available, due to a contract dispute with her American team, the Finchburg Finches.

After the match, Ballycastle manager, Lorcan O’Toole, praised the team’s resilience and perseverance to overcome the obstacles placed before them this season. “I am really proud … (see p. 35)

**********

May 28, 2004

Dear Aaron,

I would like to announce the birth of Pelton James Potter on May 25th, 2004 at 3:18 pm. He weighed six pounds ten ounces and was eighteen and a half inches long. Both PJ (as we are going to call him) and Ginny are doing well, but things were pretty scary for a few moments.

First, Ginny went into labour two weeks early, which happened to be the day of the final Quidditch match of the season. Despite my confidence in the reserve Seeker, Ginny insisted that I go to the match. “The contractions are still over twenty minutes apart; it will probably be hours before Baby Potter is ready to come out,” she said. Her mum was in labour for over twenty-four hours with her first, and the Healer said that she hadn’t progressed any in the first two hours we were at the hospital. So, following the advice of my father-in-law (“Don’t argue with your wife when she is in labour; just do whatever she says”), I went to the game.

Because of our Bond, I could feel every contraction, and, at first, it wasn’t that bad. However, about an hour into the match, I had this sensation that I had suddenly peed my pants, which actually was Ginny’s water breaking. I’ll tell you, that certainly was odd feeling! After that, things started to pick up quickly, and the contractions became more intense and closer together, making it much harder to concentrate on the match. Finally, three hours into the match, I caught the Snitch and was able to Apparate back to Ginny. (We won the match and the League Cup by the way.)

Ginny began pushing as soon as I arrived, and things were going well for a while, but then the Healer and her assistant started rushing around, saying the baby’s heart rate had dropped and that they had to prepare for the magical version of a C-section. But, before they did anything, there was a pop, and, unexpectedly, little PJ was lying on Ginny’s chest! He had Apparated from Ginny’s womb. Let me explain that Apparation, what we would call teleporting, is very complex magic, and is not even taught until the sixth year of school, and you have to be seventeen to be licensed. Apparently, PJ is very strong magically to allow him to do that at such a young age. The Healer had never heard of such a thing. We figure that he must have somehow known he was in danger and took matters into his own hands.

Anyway, after they had checked out that he was healthy, they bundled him up and returned him to Ginny. She nursed him for a few minutes before he fell asleep. She then looked up at me and asked, “Would you like to hold your son?” I had held plenty of babies in my role of Uncle Harry, but holding PJ was different. It really is amazing how much love you can feel for this tiny person whom you just met. He didn’t stay asleep long and he just stared at me with his blue eyes, as if he was studying my face, while I studied his.

I’ve included a few pictures, because I know your mom would yell at me if I didn’t. The first one is just Ginny and PJ taken a few minutes after he was born. As you can see, he has Weasley red hair, but it seems to stand up straight like mine.

The second picture was taken in the midst of all his extended family. I’m sure you recognize all of them from your visit last year when you stopped by during your honeymoon. PJ certainly isn’t going to be lacking for uncles, aunts, and cousins.

Harry paused as he wrote this, remembering presenting PJ to his family for the first time. Carefully cradling him, Harry left the Ginny’s room and walked down the corridor to the waiting room, whispering to his son the whole way.

“I’m taking you to your family now. Don’t be scared; there are a lot of them, but they are going to love you as much as your mum and I do. They are all very excited to see you.”

When he reached the end of the corridor, he looked through the window in the door, seeing his family gathered in the waiting room, which Harry suspected had been magically expanded to accommodate them all. They were talking amongst themselves while they waited news of the new arrival. Harry paused, reminiscing about all that had happened in the four years since the battle.

Closest to the door were the twins, both waving their hands manically, probably discussing their latest invention for their shops. Fred was the only casualty among the Weasleys at the Battle of Hogwarts, other than Bill. Madam Pomfrey was unable to regrow Fred’s ear due to the nature of the Dark curse that he had been hit with, but he played on his loss by forever was making horrible puns about it. The rest of the Weasley family had emerged from the battle relatively unscathed.

Next were Sirius and Aubrey. During the battle at Hogwarts, Remus had captured Peter, who was taken to the Ministry. During extensive questioning under Veritaserum, Peter admitted that he was the betrayer of the Potters and the murderer of the Muggles that night. Sirius was granted a pardon soon after, and Sirius and Aubrey married as soon as he was cleared. They had two pre-schoolers of their own, who were probably being watched by Aubrey’s parents. Sirius was the lone male in the household, and all three of his girls had him wrapped around their little fingers.

Next to them were Ron and Hermione. Harry suspected that from the way Ron was gesturing that he was recounting the Quidditch match to Sirius and Aubrey. Hermione had the look of resigned patience on her face that she always got when Ron was going on and on about Quidditch. They had been married as planned the summer after the battle. Hermione was still working in the Department of Mysteries, but had been considering a career change. Headmistress McGonagall had been persistent in trying to convince her to return to Hogwarts to teach, and, since she and Ron had been considering starting their own family, she would have more time to spend with her children.

Hermione continued to have the occasional vision, but they primarily involved some of Harry’s more dangerous moves on the Quidditch pitch. Eventually, she learned that Harry would almost always pull out of the situation at the last minute. She no longer panicked about them, and actually found them quite annoying. Of course, she was teased mercilessly about the visions by her family, because of her disdain of Divination.

Seated next to Hermione were Remus and Tonks. They were also married in what had been dubbed by the family “The Summer of Weddings,” and their son Teddy had been born early the next year. Tonks had been working her way up the ladder in the Auror office and Remus enjoyed staying at home with Teddy, since steady employment was still an issue because of his “furry problem.”

Lydia was entertaining a six-year-old Cat. Lydia was a frequent minder for the young girl so the two were very close. Lydia, since finishing at Hogwarts the year before, had a few try-outs for Seeker positions around the League, but had not caught on yet. She had been offered the reserve position for the Bats at Harry and Ginny’s suggestion, but, knowing that she would have almost no chance at beating Harry for the starting role, she chose to wait until the right offer presented itself. Harry had been working with her over the last year in his free time and he was confident that she would gain a spot somewhere this next season.

Cat had lived with Harry and Ginny since the battle. Initially they had lived in Shell Cottage, but soon afterwards, the Potters had moved into the newly-renovated house at Godric’s Hollow where Harry had lived with James and Lily. There were more Wizarding families in Godric’s Hollow than around Tinworth, so this allowed Cat to have some neighbourhood friends. Fortunately, the Bats had a daycare facility for the team members’ and support staff’s children, so Cat had friends to play with there as well while Harry and Ginny practiced.

Cat continued to be precocious, as expected for part-Veela children, and kept Harry and Ginny on their toes. She tended to play with children several years older and had been caught more than a few times reading some of Ginny’s books from her early years at Hogwarts and borrowing one of the adults’ wands to try some spells.

Last was Headmistress McGonagall, talking with Molly and Arthur. After the battle, she was able to start widespread changes at Hogwarts. First, she convinced Professor Binns to finally move on and hired Bathilda Bagshot’s great niece to teach History of Magic. Professor Bagshot no longer forced the students to focus on all of the goblin rebellions, and made history come alive. It didn’t hurt that she was in her early thirties and quite attractive, assuring that she had the attention of the male students. Next, Professor Slughorn had continued teaching Potions for just one more year, to be replaced by a Potion Mistress from France. During Professor Snape’s tenure at Hogwarts, not one British student had chosen to continue studying to become a Master or Mistress in the subject, so the headmistress had to go outside of the country to find a qualified candidate. This change was also acclaimed by the students; as a matter of fact, Lydia enjoyed the subject so much that she was considering additional study to become a Potions Mistress once she finished her Quidditch career. To everyone’s relief, the curse on the Defence position seemed to have finally been broken when Tom was killed, so Headmistress McGonagall had been able to hire, and keep, a Defence teacher who had been an instructor in the Auror program for all of the past five years. Finally, she had hinted to Harry and Ginny that she was hoping to groom Hermione to be the next headmistress, which was why she had been attempting to woo her to teach.

Molly and Arthur had settled into their roles as doting grandparents to Cat, Audrey and Percy’s two boys, and even the Black girls and Teddy, even though they weren’t truly family. Molly would also badger the twins and Charlie to settle down, but the twins enjoyed the bachelor life and Charlie continued to say that prospects for female companionship were slim at the dragon sanctuary.

Harry opened the door, but no one noticed that he had entered until he cleared his throat. Suddenly, all chattering silenced and Harry, a smile on his face, announced, his voice cracking with emotion, “Everyone, I would like you to meet Pelton James Potter, or PJ, as we will call him.”

Before he could be mobbed by his family, he walked over to Cat and sat down next to her. “Would you like to hold your new brother?” he asked.

She nodded and held out her arms. Harry gently handed PJ to Cat, making sure his head was safely perched in the crook of her arm. PJ looked into Cat’s face for a moment, but then his eyes closed. “He’s sleeping,” whispered Cat, a huge smile on her face.

“I’m not surprised he’s tired. It’s hard work being born,” explained Harry. The rest of the family gathered around, craning their necks to see the newborn. After a few minutes, Harry could tell Molly was starting to become antsy, so he asked, “Is it okay if Grandmum has a turn holding PJ, Cat?”

“Yes, Uncle Harry. My arms are getting tired anyway.”

Molly bent over and lifted PJ off of Cat’s lap and cradled him, swaying back and forth. “Oh, he’s perfect, Harry,” said Molly, obviously enraptured instantly by her newest grandson.

PJ made the rounds among several other family members before he started to fuss. “I think he might be hungry; I better get him back to Ginny,” said Harry, taking PJ from Aubrey. As he turned to leave the room, Harry was shocked when, suddenly, his arms were empty. “Where did he go?” he asked in a panic.

Don’t worry, Harry; he’s with me. Apparently, little PJ is quite good at Apparating already. He must have been hungry and decided that it was time to nurse.

I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. That second prophecy did suggest that our son would be powerful magically. The couple had chuckled several times over the years since the final battle that, while the prophecy could have meant a child fathered by Draco, Harry also met the qualifications to sire the ‘next great wizard.’

After reassuring the family that PJ was with Ginny, Harry reached out to hold Cat’s hand and led her back to Ginny’s room, where they found PJ at Ginny’s breast. Harry waved his wand at her bed, causing it to magically expand to accommodate all four of them. He sat down on Ginny’s right and Cat jumped up on her left, staring with wonder at little PJ.

The last picture is of our little family in the hospital a few hours after PJ’s birth. Cat has been a wonderful big sister in general, but at times she seems like she is having a little difficulty adjusting to the huge change that has come to us. I’m sure she’ll adapt in no time.

I hope things in Ohio are still good. Thanks for the update on Pelton Aviation and MAP Charities. I can’t thank you enough for taking over the reins of those for me and how well they are prospering under your leadership. It still amazes me that you pushed yourself to finish your business degree in three years just so that you could help me out with my family’s company. You are a true friend, and I know that I will be forever in you debt. How is your progress on the MBA? I’m sure taking the courses while working full time can’t be easy. Thank you again.

On a more personal note, are you still enjoying married life? Make sure you take some time to spend some quality time with Sam. Consider that an order; I am your boss after all. Are your parents bugging you about making them grandparents yet? We’ll see if we can make a quick trip to visit you toward the end of the summer so that everyone can meet PJ.

Give our love to Sam and your parents,

Harry/Brook, Ginny, Cat, and PJ

**********

Harry folded the letter to his oldest friend and, before he could call her, Hedwig landed on the desk and held out her leg. After attaching the letter to the offered leg, he scratched his owl under her neck, causing a short satisfied twitter from Hedwig. Smiling he said, “Here you go, girl. Enjoy the flight.” She nodded her head to Harry and flew out the window.

He stood up, stretching, and then crept quietly to the room he shared with Ginny. He opened the door a crack and spied his wife and son asleep, she in their bed, he in his Moses basket that was placed on an enlarged bedside table. He carefully reclosed the door and thought that he should figure out what Cat was up to. Probably reading in her room, he thought, so he walked down to Cat’s room, expecting to find her sitting in her window seat enjoying a book, and he was a little surprised when he didn’t find her there.

As he looked around, he smirked at how Cat’s bedroom displayed the contrasts of her personality. Being part-Veela, sometimes she was all girl, which could be seen in the pink walls, the frilly bedclothes, and the numerous dresses hanging in the wardrobe. However, on those pink walls, he could see evidence of her other nature, as a tomboy. She had two Quidditch posters, one of which was the current Ballycastle team, the other featuring Harry and Ginny side by side on their brooms, Ginny tossing a Quaffle from one hand to the other, Harry grabbing a Snitch out of the air as it flew by. Harry and Ginny had tried to veto the caption of the poster, but the public relations witch insisted on “POTTER POWER!” Next to the posters, he saw her paintball gun and mask that she had received in her Easter basket the past spring. He rubbed his left buttock, which was still a little sore from the welt that she had given him when they were playing with the guns the day before.

Not finding her in her room, he thought, Wonder where she is? The last time I saw her she was helping Ginny with PJ.

Thump. A few seconds of silence. Thump. Harry smiled and cast a Silencing Charm on their bedroom. So much like Ginny sometimes, he thought.

He walked through the kitchen, out the back door, and across the yard to the old carriage house that they used as a garage for the MG that Harry had restored. As he walked around the corner, he saw, as he expected, Cat sitting on her child’s broom. The broom was charmed to only fly six feet off the ground and at a relatively low speed, but still allowed Cat to begin developing her Chaser skills, as she planned to break all of Ginny’s scoring records when she grew up. She was repeatedly throwing a rubber Quaffle at one of the three hoops that Harry had painted on the side of the building, causing the thumps that Harry had heard from the house.

Thump. “Hey, Cat, what’s wrong?”

Thump. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

Thump. “Because the only time you come out here by yourself and try to knock down our carriage house with the Quaffle is when you are upset.”

Thump. A pause. Thump. “It’s nothing.”

Thump. Harry walked a little closer and Summoned the Quaffle out of the air before she could catch it again. “Cat, if something is bothering you, it’s not ‘nothing.’ Please talk to me.”

Cat flew the broom to the ground and slowly got off. She trudged over to Harry, her head down. He put his arm around her and led her to their favourite spot to talk, a swing hanging from an ancient oak tree near the back of their property. He sat down and patted his thigh, and she hopped up into his lap. She snuggled into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her small body. “So, what is it?” he asked.

Cat sniffed. “I don’t want to tell you. You won’t like it. You’ll be mad.”

He reached down and lifted her chin, looking into her teary eyes, and said, “Cat, you know you can tell me anything. I promise you I won’t get mad. What happened to make you so upset? The last I saw you, you were with Ginny and PJ and everything was fine.”

She sniffed again and burrowed her face into his chest. After about a minute of silence, she began. “Aunt Ginny had just finished changing PJ’s nappy, and he was lying on his back, kicking his legs and waving his arms. Aunt Ginny rubbed her nose into his belly and said, ‘You be a good little boy, PJ, and take a nap. Your mummy needs to sleep. You’ve kept your mummy up way too much last night.’ Hearing that just made me so mad that I came out here to throw the Quaffle.”

Harry’s brow furrowed as he considered what she said. “I don’t understand. Why did that you make you mad?”

Cat began sobbing against Harry’s chest. “It’s just not fair! When he can talk, he’ll call you Mummy and Daddy, and I can’t!”

Harry patted her back and said, “There, there,” finally understanding the problem. “Settle down, my sweet girl,” he comforted her as he rocked her.

When she had calmed down, he turned her so that they were facing each other. “Do you want to call Aunt Ginny and me Mummy and Daddy?” he asked, his eyes filling with tears.

She nodded silently before saying, “See, I told you that you wouldn’t like it. I made you sad,” she said quietly, new tears falling down her cheeks.

“I’m not sad, dear Cat, I’m happy. So very happy. We love you so much, and I would be honoured if you would call me Daddy. I’m sure that Ginny feels the same.”

“But what about my real parents? Would they be sad?”

Harry thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. I know that they had planned on you calling them ‘Maman’ and ‘Papa,’ just like your mother did with her family. So, I think they would be okay with it.”

Cat then wrapped her arms around Harry’s chest and squeezed him in a hug that would have made her Grandmum proud. “Thank you, Daddy!”

Harry hugged her back, tears of joy streaming down his face.

What’s going on out there? Harry heard in his mind. A huge wave of emotion just woke me up! And I was having a wonderful nap!

Harry chuckled. Sorry about that, love. He blocked off his thoughts to her so that Cat could tell Ginny herself. Since you’re awake, can Cat and I come in? We have something to talk to you about.

I guess. But this better be good, Potter, or you can get up with PJ all night tonight!

Oh, I think you’ll be okay with it.

He picked Cat up so that he could stand and put her down on the ground. “Ginny’s awake. Why don’t you go ask her if she’s alright with being called Mummy?”

Cat turned and started sprinting toward the house. “But be quiet about it; PJ’s still sleeping,” he called after her, shaking his head at the energy of the little girl.

By the time he arrived at his bedroom doorway, Ginny had raised a Silencing Charm around her bed so they wouldn’t disturb PJ, so he couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could see Cat talking animatedly to Ginny. He then saw his wife nodding enthusiastically and she pulled the little girl into a hug, tears streaming down her face. She looked up and their eyes met. Even without their Bond, Harry could almost feel the bliss displayed on her face.

Harry took in the scene before him. His wife hugging his daughter in all but blood. His son sleeping sweetly next to the bed. I never wanted to replace Bill and Fleur in Cat’s heart, he thought, but I never realized until this moment how much I yearned to be accepted by Cat as her daddy. A few days ago, when I first held PJ in my arms, I thought I couldn’t be happier, but that pales compared to the joy that fills my heart today.

To the rest of his days, Harry Potter used the memory of the events of that afternoon to conjure his Patronus. And what a Patronus it was.

The End

A/N: It is with mixed emotions that I finish the first fanfiction I ever started. I did not imagine three years ago that this little idea that kept creeping into my mind would grow into a 59 chapter story of over 300,000 words. My original plan was to just write for my own creative enjoyment, but last fall I decided that perhaps I would like to share it with others. I thank all of you who have stuck it out to the end. I especially thank those of you who have taken the time to review; your comments and encouragements have helped inspire me to continue when I was struggling with writer’s block. Most of all, I want to thank Arnel, beta extraordinaire, who has encouraged, criticized, counseled, prodded, reinforced, supported, and pushed me to be a better writer. I have learned and grown a lot as a writer through this process thanks to her help. This story wouldn’t have been anywhere near as good without her input.

This might not be the end, though. Arnel has suggested that I write some ‘missing moments’ from the story as one-shots, so I have started thinking about the possibilities of this. If any of you have any suggestions of something you would have liked to have seen in the story, please let me know and I will consider them. I also have an idea for another longer story, but it will be a while before it gets posted as I have a lot of plotting and writing to do before it is ready.

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